


50 First Dates

by flutterby_cupcake_26



Series: Fifty First Dates [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Blow Jobs in a Car, Canon Compliant, Cas loses his powers, Cas' good intentions cause problems, Destiel - Freeform, Hand Jobs, M/M, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Mild S&M, Will add more tags as I edit, anal sex in a hot tub, beer porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-21 16:14:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 140,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1556426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutterby_cupcake_26/pseuds/flutterby_cupcake_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a late night talking session, Dean grudgingly agrees to date Castiel. One date. Little does he know, during Castiel's time in the mental hospital with Meg, he watched a little movie about a girl with amnesia, and a guy who dated her. A first date, every day. He decides to use his angelic powers to make sure he gets as much Dean as he can, while Dean only has the one date. What could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Discussion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to GrammarDemon who helped me develop this plot, in so many ways :)
> 
> *please bear with me. I have decided to edit this story again, and apply tags throughout. If you've read this before, I'm sorry. If you haven't, please let me know what you think!*

All Castiel’s dreams had come true. Dean had agreed to see him. As in, dating. As in, giving Castiel the fully human experience that he’d been looking forward to.  
  
It had been an awkward conversation, after hours one night in a motel room, Sam fast asleep and snoring in the bed furthest from the door as Dean drank a beer.  
  
Castiel was fascinated as Dean drank his beer. The way the muscles in Dean’s biceps flexed and strained, the way his lips curved naturally around the bottle’s opening, how Dean’s tongue flicked out into the bottle neck before he raised the base of it, and tipped the liquid in his mouth, as though he could fully coat his tongue, tasting the beer before drinking it. Castiel imagined that kissing Dean would be much the same, the seal of his mouth, his tongue protruding forward, tasting the kiss before it truly started, letting Castiel have a taste of him before anything happened, before Dean’s tongue flicked back in his mouth, or ran itself over Castiel’s teeth, the way their mouths would move together, almost grinding against each other as Castiel’s tongue moved of its own accord, twisting against Deans, a hint of alcohol bound to be on the hunter’s breath. And how would Castiel taste to him?  
  
Castiel imagined Dean’s firm grasp on his hips, Dean’s fingers moving slowly around, palms sliding onto Castiel’s ass as his fingertips dug into the flesh, pulling Castiel’s form against his own, as Castiel’s fingers skimmed effortlessly through Dean’s short brown hair, the bristles tickling as they brushed his fingers, the way his fingers would lock at the back of Dean’s head, pulling him closer, not allowing Dean to leave the kiss as Castiel’s stomach dipped and peaked like a car on a roller coaster and his heart burned with so much intensity that Dean would surely feel it through his thin t-shirt. Castiel could imagine Dean panting, fighting to get enough breath without breaking the connection between them as Castiel struggled to control his own breathing, which would accelerate as the fire in his chest grew. And then their bodies would start mimicking their joined mouths, flexing together, working out a rhythm, fighting against the limitations as Dean would stumble forward, trying to brace Castiel against a wall, or a table, or the nearby bed …  
  
They had been talking in lowered voices, trying not to disturb Sam, the intensity of the conversation making them practically murmur.  
  
"Humans have very complex mating rituals, I’ve noticed over the years. You all like to believe that you’re the more advanced generation, but it’s not true. There are repetitions that occur, it just depends on which style is more acknowledged." Castiel was trying to make the whole thing clinical, too worried to expose his feelings just yet. Dean grunted, and Castiel took that as his signal to continue talking. "I don’t fully understand where the distinctions come from, but I know some people prefer to announce themselves as a couple, and eventually declare themselves betrothed. And once they’ve married, they finally have intercourse."  
  
Dean nearly choked on his beer, sitting forward in his seat and swiping a rough hand across his mouth, his lip moving slightly as it caught on his palm. Castiel forced himself not to stare, so he could keep his thoughts on track and explain further what he meant.  
  
"And there are people like yourself, who will have sex with several partners in a row, who see it completely separate to a relationship. Who don’t even seem interested in a relationship."  
  
Dean raised his eyebrows, his forehead crinkling as his brilliant green eyes were exposed. Castiel knew that this expression meant Dean was surprised, but Castiel didn’t immediately understand why. Dean didn’t speak, and Castiel knew he wasn’t going to interrupt until Castiel had explained himself fully.  
  
"Then I’ve noticed, there are those who seek a partner. They may be with their partner for one night, or a week, maybe even a year, but they’re the ones unsatisfied with their lot. So after the night, or the week, however long, they look for another partner, someone who will fill the void they believe that they have. That’s what I’ve noticed about humans approaches to courting."

"Sometimes it’s not that black and white, Cas. And there’s all kinds of relationships out there. It depends on who you are, how the person you’re with defines themselves, what you’re trying to get out of the situation, whether you’re on the same page. Some people get married to the people they thought were going to be one night stands. Some people never get married."  
  
"I don’t think I understand, Dean."  
  
"Well, like, you mentioned me. And you’d be right, sometimes, most times, sex is just sex. Okay, it’s not just sex, because it’s _sex_ , you know? It’s one of my favourite things to do, and most of the time, I’m just looking for someone willing to join in, to enjoy it for what it is, no expectations that I’d even be there in the morning. And I’m lucky Cas, there’s a lot of women out there who are okay with it, so long as you spell it out. But I’ve had relationships too. I was with Cassie for a few years. I keep going back to Lisa. And when I was with both of them, sex with anyone else was off the cards. Sex with the two of them was off the cards until they made it clear it was what they wanted. And I was happy to wait, Cas, because they meant something. And if it took a whole week for them to decide to sleep with me, it was fine."  
  
"What made you decide to treat Cassie and Lisa differently?"  
  
Dean chuckled, lifting the beer bottle again, lips sealing the bottle, tongue darting forward, oblivious to the small shiver it set off in Castiel’s spine, or the increasing buzz within Castiel’s chest that made his stomach burn. His fingers were fighting to stretch forward, to remove the beer bottle, to replace it with himself and re-inact the same scene he’d been imagining for weeks.

You just know, Dean had said. It’s a gut instinct, or a mutual agreement through conversation. Like the desire for sex was there, but there were signs of possible friendship too, where you wanted to know the dumb things like favourite colours and favourite meals and how they take their coffee. You didn’t want to do that with just anyone. The mundane nature of that kind of conversation was only interesting when you had that level of understanding.  
  
Castiel asked Dean how he took his coffee.  
  
It took Dean a moment, before he sniggered, lowering the now empty beer bottle and clapping Castiel on the shoulder, and telling him it didn’t matter, he’d never expect the angel to get him a coffee. Castiel hadn’t responded straight away, his gaze dropping to Dean’s hand on his shoulder, the way his blunt nails dug in slightly, the tight grip of Dean’s fingers, the bruised and scratched knuckles that never seemed to fully heal before splitting open again, the intense heat that radiated through the trench coat, the suit jacket, and the shirt, right onto Castiel’s skin. All his senses seemed to pool there, or in his groin, making him shift slightly into Dean’s touch. And then Dean had spoken, articulating in his usual clumsy way his thought process as he realised that Castiel had intended the subtext, and how personally Castiel must have been taking the conversation. Castiel wondered if it was the fact he’d even attempted such a human way of communicating that Dean said the words he’d been imagining. Or a variation of them, anyway.  
  
"Well, gee Cas … I mean … you know … I haven’t really - because it’s not … is that what you … you know?"  
  
Castiel had shook his head slowly, not fully understanding what Dean was trying to encapsulate in the words 'you know'. Dean tended to use that phrase when he was expressing the notion that his feelings were more than evident in his actions and didn’t need the gravity of words applied to them, that much Castiel knew. He just wasn’t sure that Dean’s 'you know' matched Castiel’s 'you know' however much he wanted that to be the case. And then Dean had shrugged, letting go of Castiel’s shoulder, his fingertips grazing down Castiel’s arms and unknowingly causing a tidal wave of sensation erupting in goosebumps down the path his contact made.  
  
"Black. Strong. Sugar depends on how many nights I’ve already gone without sleep."  
  
"Dean, I-"  
  
"I know what you meant, Cas. So, what are you asking for here?"  
  
Dean’s expression was blank, the only hint of an emotion on his face was a slightly tic in one cheek. Castiel watched the twitching muscle, imagining trying to calm it with his mouth. He made himself concentrate, because Dean didn’t seem entirely opposed to the idea of them together. If he expressed this correctly, Castiel would be able to have the kind of relationship with Dean that he’d been asking for.  
  
"I would like to experience a date. Or a series of dates."  
  
"So you want me to hook you up with someone?" Dean folded his arms across his chest, his t-shirt wrinkling slightly as his pectorals stood out, highlighted in the dips and stretched material. Castiel made himself push away the image of licking them, nibbling them, tracing the contours of Dean’s chest and stomach with his hands, following their progress with his mouth. He would worship Dean, if he had the chance, angelic duty be damned.  
  
"No, I don’t wish for a 'hook up' Dean. I would like to experience a series of dates with someone who you described. Someone I have a friendship with, who-"  
  
"Who you can make coffee for?" Dean interrupted, his eyes now scanning Castiel’s face. Castiel sat up straight, hoping that Dean’s search of his expression yielded the correct results. This was the moment of truth that Castiel was longing for, and now it was here, the bubbling feeling in his stomach was threatening to spill over. "Sure Cas. Make me coffee in the morning. We’ll work the rest out later."  
  
Castiel had beamed, as Dean stretched, and scratched his stomach before standing up, his t-shirt rising up slightly and exposing Dean’s flat stomach, and the hint of a curve of muscle leading down into his jeans, one of his abs disrupting the otherwise small skin. Castiel could see a few wisps of dark hair along the edge of the exposed flesh, and Castiel noted that for his next fantasy about Dean, he would need to include the faint trail of dark fuzz that stretched from Dean’s belly button down past the waistband of his pants. Castiel’s eyes flicked up, and he caught Dean’s expression, the dimpled marks in Dean’s cheeks coupled with his thinned lips indicated that Dean knew exactly what Castiel had been thinking. And then Dean had said goodnight, and gone to sleep, leaving Castiel to try to understand if it had been okay to look at Dean that way. Castiel waited until Dean was asleep as well to step into the bathroom, remove his human clothes and stand in the shower, running the water and reliving all his fantasies, holding his own body with a touch he imagined Dean would have. Rough hands, but soft caresses, a tenderness in the way he explored Castiel’s body, the confidence that Dean would have in knowing what would set Castiel off, turn him on, and lose the function of his human legs. He often fantasised about Dean in this way when the Winchesters were asleep and oblivious to just how depraved Castiel had come.  
  
Castiel was dubious that Dean would wake up and forget the whole incident, but the next day, he was aware that Dean was watching him every chance he got. Castiel watched him so much, it was obvious to him when there was a difference with Dean. It was just unfortunate that Dean had almost totalled the Impala during one of their many lingering gazes. Sam had insisted on driving, as Dean was clearly distracted, and Castiel found Dean staring at him in the side mirror.  
  
That night, Dean had sat up in the next motel’s kitchenette, under the guise of researching the case he and his brother were working on, and when Sam had turned in for the night, and fallen into a deep sleep, Dean brought the conversation up.

"So, did you get me coffee?" Dean smirked as he spoke, his eyes dancing with humour. Castiel had barely left his side, he knew what the answer would be.  
  
"Forgive me, Dean. I could find some, if it’s important to you."  
  
"No, it’s good."  
  
"I know you like a strong black coffee, sugar content increasing as your sleep deprivation builds."  
  
Dean’s smirk grew into a full smile, and he looked away, eyeing Sam’s prone body cautiously. Castiel took the welcome break in conversation to marvel over the perfection of Dean’s earlobe, how the curves of each part of his ear seemed to flow together, to naturally lead on to the next section. And how every millimetre of Dean’s ear would feel as Castiel grazed his teeth over it. Castiel tried to remind himself that he was getting erotic over Dean’s ear, and Dean would not appreciate it if Castiel’s human body revealed his thoughts.  
  
"So, say we’re on a date, what would we be doing?"  
  
Castiel shrugged awkwardly.  
  
"We would be on a date."  
  
"Yeah, Cas, I got that. What would you want to do?"  
  
"Date you."  
  
Dean gave Castiel a strange look, his eyes narrowed and his mouth scrunched together in a way that made Castiel want to stick his finger in there, to make Dean suck it, sliding it into his mouth and out again. He had to stop with the inappropriate thoughts, because there was more to this situation for Castiel than just sexual contact. He wanted a relationship with Dean, he liked the idea of finding out what colours Dean preferred and the pictures he would see in an ink blot test. He wanted to hear Dean discuss his feelings towards Sam, and towards himself.  
  
"Do you not know what people do on dates?" Dean asked softly. Castiel shook his head. "Well, it depends on who’s on the date, but most people like to go to a fancy restaurant, dressed up real nice, and they talk while they eat, share a bottle of wine, get to know each other, that kind of thing."  
  
"We already know each other," Castiel mused, and Dean smiled, looking down at the floor as he folded his arms again, his bulging biceps straining against his built and buffed chest, and Castiel felt a stab of desire as he imagined himself sandwiched between Dean’s chest and arms.  
  
"Well, some people go to movies and spend the entire time making out with each other, ignoring the entire reason they’re there. That’s always fun," Dean laughed, and Castiel’s eyes were caught by Dean’s perfectly straight, white teeth. There was nothing that Castiel could see that rendered Dean anything less than an example of a perfect human being. No wonder Castiel’s father loved humans so much, when humans like Dean existed.  
  
"Would you take me to the movies one time, maybe?"  
  
"One time? How many dates are you expecting, Cas?"  
  
"How many are you willing to give me?"  
  
Dean clearly hadn’t been expecting Castiel to give such a direct answer back, because he reeled in his seat slightly, before straightening his features, trying to give the appearance of a poker face.  
  
"One date, Cas. Let’s take it one date at a time."  
  
The days passed in much the same way, the constant eye contact, and then at night, once Sam was asleep, the conversations about what they would do when they finally got the chance to go out, just the two of them. Castiel liked listening to Dean’s low voice as he described all manner of dates that he’d been on, trying to give Castiel some idea of what he would enjoy best for their date.  
  
The problem was, Castiel wanted to do them all. He wanted to do more. He wanted to show Dean the infinite possibilities that came with amorous relationships with angels. They could travel through space and time and infinite realities. They could change their matter or lose it entirely. Cas could show Dean his favourite Heaven, and the truth of Earth and human history. Or they could sit on the Impala talking and sinking beers, go bowling, walk on a moonlit beach, go on a roller coaster at Lunar Park, go dancing. The possibilities stretching on and on for Castiel, with only one certainty. He wanted Dean there every time.  
  
But what if Dean came back to his usual self, and their one date was all that Castiel got to have? What if Castiel made a mistake? What if there was some other reason why this didn’t work out? What if the hunting and the civil wars in Heaven broke them apart for good?  
  
And then Castiel remembered a movie that Meg had watched with him in the psychiatric ward one day. Where a pretty blonde woman could never remember the romantic gestures of her partner, but he tried every day to make a difference in her life. He decided, as underhand as it might be, as much as he could wish that Dean would remember each and every second of the dates he had planned, that he would take this option. That he would repeat their first date over and over, in different places, different times, different realities; whatever it took to keep Dean his. He may have had an eon to live, but his one date with Dean was precious and short.


	2. Date One: Paintball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first-first date is important, right? So you should pick something your date would enjoy, right? Even if you don't like it. That was what Dean had meant, right?

Castiel had thought long and hard about the best date to begin with. Even if he planned to make Dean forget every date in order to have a new first one, he wanted to ease Dean into the idea of dating him, and that meant beginning in Dean’s comfort zone.  
  
For example, Castiel had once seen a film about two cartoon dogs who shared a plate of spaghetti, and although he didn’t fully appreciate the concept of dining in an alleyway - that was the first place you were likely to stumble upon something demonic - he did like the notion of the intimacy that would come from sitting across a table with Dean, the only real source of light coming from a slowly melting candle perched on the linen covering the small plinth of wood that separated them. It wouldn’t entirely separate them, of course, because the table would be so small, that by drawing their chairs in close enough to eat, their legs would touch, would graze against each other, and although Castiel would have no need to share Dean’s meal, he could still experience some of the heightened emotions by knowing Dean’s body was pressed close to his.  
  
Castiel dreamed of that date, the one with fine dining and intimacy and a sense that only they existed on the planet. But he knew how uncomfortable Dean would find it. It wouldn’t be the prospect of being so close to Castiel, or the type of food, but the expectation that Dean would feel was placed upon him by others. He would feel something as arbitrary as his clothes separated him from the other diners, lowering his worth as compared to theirs. He would be self-conscious as he ate, misjudging which piece of silverware to use, refusing to handle his wine glass for fear his grip would be either too firm or too clumsy. And Castiel would wish to tell him that there was no need for the reservation, that the other diners should feel honoured to be in the presence of the man who tirelessly worked to save their lives over and over. But that would not matter to Dean, because that is his job and this is etiquette and Castiel would struggle with the implications of human interactions all over again.  
  
It took him a few weeks to find the perfect first-first date with Dean. They were separated temporarily, as the Winchester’s hunted a djinn and Castiel met with a few of his angelic brothers. He had been returning to Dean’s side, when he passed a sign that caught his eye. Two men wore camouflage and face masks, wielding unusual-looking guns. The words screamed 'Paintball!' and Castiel knew that Dean would find the activity humorous.  
  
He had hurried to Dean’s side, but unfortunately, Dean and Sam were in a diner, tucking into their meals of a burger and salad respectively. He couldn’t materialise in front of the other patrons of the diner, and couldn’t discuss the date in front of Sam. He had understood the subtext enough to know that Dean did not wish to share the news with Sam, that he had agreed to this date with Castiel. So Castiel remained invisible and silent in the diner, listening to them discussing a recent baseball game they had witnessed. The anticipation of seeing Dean’s face as Castiel revealed the date was hard for the angel to deal with, but somehow he resisted the temptation until the boys had left the diner, and Sam was making a phone call while Dean climbed into the Impala. Castiel 'appeared' in the backseat.  
  
"Hey, Cas," Dean looked at him in the rearview mirror. "How’s it going?"  
  
"Paintball."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Our date. We should participate in paintball."  
  
"I don’t know Cas, it’s meant to be a team effort. It’s not really a date thing."  
  
"Oh. I thought you’d be interested. You could shoot things and no one would die."  
  
Dean chuckled.  
  
"Okay, fine, Cas, we’ll paintball. Just you and me."  
  
Castiel beamed at Dean, as Sam slid into the passenger seat, simultaneously putting his phone into his pocket. Sam seemed oblivious to the atmosphere that was developing between Dean and Castiel as he settled in his seat.  
  
"Hey, what’re you guys talking about?"  
  
"Cas wants to try paintball. I figure, we’re done with the djinn, why not?"  
  
"Oh, cool, I’ll book us in somewhere. Great idea, Cas!" Sam turned and beamed at the angel, who levelled him with a dirty stare back.  
  
"Uh, I think Cas booked something already, right, Cas? And there were only two slots going."  
  
"What?" Sam complained. "Who did you go with, Cas? I’ll call and try and get a third."  
  
"Sammy, suck it up, maybe next time," Dean patted his arm playfully, winking at Castiel in the mirror.  
  
"Well, why do you automatically get the second ticket?"  
  
"Because Cas likes me more. Don’t worry Sam, we’ll drop you at the hotel, you can watch porn or whatever, and I’ll show our good angel buddy how to pulverise nerds with paint pellets."  
  
Sam sighed, and leaned back in his seat as Dean headed back to their motel. The drive was short, and Dean didn’t even turn off the engine outside of the motel, letting it idle as he looked expectantly at Sam.  
  
"Bye, then."  
  
"Thanks Dean, really, way to make me feel unwanted."  
  
Dean shrugged.  
  
"You are unwanted right now. We’ll see you later, okay?" Dean looked in the rearview mirror again. "Cas? You coming up front?"  
  
Sam rolled his eyes and climbed out of the Impala, slamming the door with unnecessary force as he stalked away. Castiel flashed into the front seat, and Dean pulled away.  
  
"So, where’s this paintballing gig?" Dean asked as he hit the local highway.  
  
"Not too far. I didn’t realise you meant right now, Dean."  
  
"Why not? Case is over, you had an idea for our date. What’s to wait for?"  
  
Castiel hadn’t banked on Dean’s impulsiveness, his spontaneity.  
  
"Nothing, I just didn’t realise that it would be a case of me sharing an idea and we would instantly do it."  
  
Dean smiled.  
  
"We’ve been talking about this long enough Cas. It’s about damn time, huh?"  
  
As crudely as Dean had expressed the sentiment, Castiel had to agree that it had taken an awfully long time from when they had first discussed coffee until they reached this point. Dean fell silent as he drove, looking for an area that seemed likely for a paintball game, and Castiel took to watching Dean’s hands as they gripped the wheel, caressing the leather covering as he turned the car, the way a muscle moved at the back of his cheek when he swallowed, how delicate Dean’s eyes looked when he blinked, the long eyelashes fluttering down over his look of stern concentration.  
  
Castiel loved that contradiction in Dean, the tough exterior, the hardened expressions, all of which would melt away in a moment if you looked at him in the right way, or if Dean felt empathetic to your situation. And he believed strongly in paying his dues. Castiel loved nothing more than the fact that Dean took promises seriously, and worked hard to protect those who helped him. Like he had when they had first met. They would never have bonded if Dean hadn’t felt some gratitude for Castiel pulling him out of the pit. But, Castiel reflected, if that wasn’t Dean’s attitude, he would never have been assigned the job of saving Dean’s soul. To Castiel, the very fact there was no way they wouldn’t have bonded was evidence that he was meant to be with Dean, on any and all levels.  
  
"Here we go. Are you ready?"  
  
"No, but I know you’ll enjoy it."  
  
Dean smiled, and placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly and rubbing.  
  
"You will too, Cas. Come on, we’d better get in there before all the good pellets are taken."  
  
"I may need you to explain the rules. I only said because the pictures-"  
  
"It’ll be fine, Cas. Come on."  
  
Dean climbed out of the Impala, turning to look at Castiel, who had flashed out of the car and stood behind him. Castiel heard Dean chuckling as he locked up the car and turned around to face the angel.  
  
"Maybe you shouldn’t use your angel powers for the game. Might be an unfair advantage."  
  
"You have the advantage of knowing how to shoot."  
  
Dean’s eyes flickered over Castiel’s face, the smile set into his face as he nodded towards a slightly ramshackle building set within a sprawling tree line.  
  
"We need to go in there, right?"  
  
Castiel nodded, letting Dean take charge as they entered the building, paid for their attendance, and listened to the safety lecture that the paintball company insisted they needed to listen to. Castiel found their speech dull and confusing, and he spent most of the twenty minute presentation watching Dean’s reactions as Dean smirked and snorted with soft laughter, obviously getting more out of the situation than Castiel was. Castiel wanted to reach over, to plant a soft kiss on the slight dimple on Dean’s face, to thread his fingers with Dean’s and lean against the strong, solid hunter. But the room was full of various other men, most of whom carried themselves the way Dean did, with that air of confidence and independence and a slight arrogance that altered their stances slightly. As much as this was an activity that Dean would enjoy, Castiel was beginning to regret his decision to make this their first date. There was no chance of the intimacy that Castiel had desired, not when he was being handed a plastic gun full of tiny, multi-coloured beads, and marched outside into the woodland, where Dean took charge of the group they were part of, which included four men Castiel had never seen in his life. Dean began talking of strategy and strengths, checking what the other team members were able to do and planning the best way for them to win their current game.  
  
And Castiel fell in love with Dean all over again, watching the way his mouth formed the words, listening to the deep timbre of Dean’s voice, the stern infliction as Dean enforced his authority, the kind words he used to motivate the team. Dean was in his element, doing what he did best, and Castiel was in awe once more of the human he was fortunate enough to at least consider a friend, and amazed that Dean had agreed to this date. So Castiel swallowed his disappointment down, and listened to Dean’s instructions as well as he could. He finished up quickly, and the rest of the team split up, missing the moment when Dean grabbed Castiel’s shoulder, and pulled him into a nearby hut, seemingly oblivious to the way Castiel’s skin erupted at the touch, burning and tingly and taking all his attention.  
  
"You’re keeping hold of the flag, okay? I’m covering you, the guys are the offence," Dean muttered. Castiel nodded, relieved that Dean was recapping for his benefit, and that he wouldn’t be too far away. "You’ll need to watch for me too, okay? In case someone sneaks up on me. Remember what they said about how to use the gun?"  
  
Castiel nodded, and Dean smirked, squeezing his fingers on Castiel’s arms and leaning closer, placing his head beside Castiel’s, their skin nearly touching and the proximity of Dean sending Castiel’s system into overdrive. The sensation of Dean being so close, but not making contact was somehow more intoxicating than if they were doing exactly as Castiel wanted, and were pressed flush against one another, leaning heavily against the wooden hut, Dean’s lips and tongue and teeth attacking Castiel’s face in a bout of heated passion as their hands stroked and grabbed and rubbed and caressed every inch of each others torsos, their bodies chest-to-chest, stomach to stomach, groins pressing against each other, restricted by their clothes …  
  
He made himself concentrate as Dean whispered in his ear, Dean’s very breath warming Castiel’s cheek and sending shivers down his spine.  
  
"Don’t think I don’t realise you’re undressing me with your eyes. Focus, okay Cas?"  
  
"Well, we are on a date." Castiel replied throatily. Dean laughed softly.  
  
"We are. I haven’t forgotten. Just take it easy, okay Cas?"  
  
What Castiel would have liked to have happen next was for Dean to kiss the spot he’d been breathing on, or to maybe bite gently on his ear lobe, or to pull back slightly and press his lips on Castiel’s, aiming for a gentle kiss and being pleasantly surprised when Castiel unleashed the passion that he learned from the pizza man on him.  
  
Instead, Dean gave him a one-armed hug, patting his back a couple of times before stepping away, peering out through a gap in the hut’s doorway. Castiel stared at the hunter’s back, his mind still reeling as he debated the things he should have done to lengthen the hug, to turn it into something else vaguely romantic.  
  
"Don’t think I can’t tell you’re picturing us having sex, Cas," Dean whispered from the doorway.  
  
"I wasn’t," Castiel lied. Dean chuckled, holding the paint gun up to his shoulder, pointing it through the small crack of the doorframe.  
  
"Sure you weren’t. You keep trying to have eye sex with me."  
  
"Dean-"  
  
"If I wasn’t okay with it, Cas, I wouldn’t be here right now. But there’s time for that, right now, we should focus. You got the flag?"  
  
"Yes."

 

*****

Paintball, Castiel realised, was a long activity, one that took most of the day. Dean had single-handedly taken out three of the other team protecting Castiel, and Castiel had imagined Dean as his knight in shining armour, his protector, when normally it felt like Castiel was the one saving Dean. The reversed roles felt good to Castiel, as though it put them on a more even footing.  
  
Everyone stopped before it grew dark, and Castiel stood slightly off to the side as Dean laughed with the other team mates and exchanged numbers, agreeing that, if he and Castiel were ever in the area, they would love to be part of the team again. Castiel stood beside the Impala, watching as Dean talked, and listened patiently, ducking his head so he was on a similar level to the men who weren’t as tall as he was. Dean looked so comfortable talking to other humans, even after he had pummelled them with paint pellets for most of the afternoon. Castiel had taken a few to the stomach and thighs during the games, and he knew that if he were a human, his skin would be marred by the black, blue, purple, green and yellow hues of various bruises before too long. He wondered, as Dean clapped one guy on the back and shook his hand, whether Dean’s skin would be covered in the same way. He made a mental note to kiss each and every one before healing Dean completely.  
  
Dean jogged back to him, smiling widely.  
  
"Wanna go grab a beer? Celebrate all the wins?" He stopped just out of Castiel’s reach.  
  
"I- yes, that sounds good." Castiel said stiffly. Dean frowned at him momentarily.  
  
"You okay there, Cas?"  
  
What Castiel wanted to say is that he was dying for some physical interaction, for Dean to respond to what he had referred to earlier as Castiel’s "eye sex' and push him up against the Impala, mouth pressing down on Castiel’s, tongue forcing its way roughly into Castiel’s mouth, his fragile human lungs burning as he learned to balance his breathing with their connection, his legs shaking with the effort of standing up when Dean was pressed so close to him. But he knew that as soon as he put the words out there that Dean would clam up, avoid the issue, and refuse to ever try this again.  
  
"I’m fine Dean. You enjoy beer, so we should go and get a beer."  
  
Dean folded his arms, staring at the angel, one eyebrow cocked.  
  
"Okay, drop the bullshit, Cas," Dean looked over his shoulder, as everyone else was driving away, leaving them alone in the makeshift car park. He turned back to Castiel. "You don’t want to grab a beer, clearly. What do you want to do? This is your date, too."  
  
"I want to make you happy, Dean."  
  
Dean sighed.  
  
"Get in the car, Cas."  
  
Castiel zapped himself into the passenger seat of the Impala as Dean unlocked his door, climbing into the driver’s side, and in one fluid motion, leaned across and kissed Castiel. It wasn’t any of the passionate explosions of feral emotion that Castiel had been expecting, but a chaste kiss, lips pressed together for a few moments. Castiel reflected on the softness of Dean’s lips, the bottom one slightly more moist than the other, as Dean had a penchant for licking his lower lip often. A small crack in one corner, the top layer of skin coming away slightly, feeling rough against Castiel’s mouth. A hint of Dean’s breath on Castiel’s tongue, a slightly sour note from long exposure to alcohol that was surprisingly pleasant. Dean’s hand on the back of Castiel’s neck, gentle yet firm, his fingers working the short bristles for the brief moment their mouths were connected, almost massaging the back of Castiel’s neck. Castiel’s eyes closed as Dean’s fingers brushed across his skin, and remained closed as Dean pulled away and chuckled softly to himself again. Castiel didn’t care, he was instantly replaying the moment, over and over, in his head.  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"I love you, Dean."  
  
The silence that followed Castiel’s declaration was charged with a tension that Castiel didn’t understand. He opened his eyes slowly, and saw Dean looking down at the steering wheel, the tick in his cheek flickering again.  
  
"We should go back," Dean decided eventually, and Castiel cursed himself for changing the mood. How had telling Dean that he loved him - which, surely, Dean knew already? - made Dean feel like he should call an end to their evening? They drove in silence back to their motel.  
  
As Dean parked up, he looked over at Castiel, his jaw tensing as though he had something to say, and Castiel looked back, worried about what Dean could possibly tell him.  
  
"So, paintball was fun. Thanks, Cas."  
  
"It’s okay," Castiel said quietly.  
  
"It was a good date. Beat some I’ve been on."  
  
"That’s good. That’s what I wanted."  
  
Dean was staring hard at him, and Castiel couldn’t take it any further, turning his head and staring at his knee, as though the grey slacks he wore would be able to quash how uncomfortable he felt.  
  
"Cas?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Are you-"  
  
"We should go and see Sam." Castiel announced quickly, and zapped out of the car, straight into the motel room, where Sam was kicking back on his bed, watching something on his laptop.  
  
"Hey, Cas, is Dean with you?" Sam asked without removing his eyes from the screen.  
  
"I believe Dean will be here shortly, he was just parking the car."  
  
Sam nodded, still staring at the laptop, and Castiel stood to the side awkwardly, listening for Dean’s footsteps outside. It seemed to take an age, but was really about ten minutes, before Dean finally stomped along, and pushed his way into the room, his eyes automatically latching onto Castiel. He looked frustrated, or angry - Castiel didn’t have enough experience with telling the two apart where Dean was concerned - but before they could say anything to each other, Sam was speaking up, still staring at his laptop.  
  
"Did you eat already? I was thinking about ordering some pizza in."  
  
"Sounds good," Dean said stiffly, glaring at Castiel as he slouched over to the small table and sat heavily in one of the plastic chairs, folding his arms and leaning onto the table. Castiel didn’t understand Dean’s body language, at all, and he knew Dean wouldn’t explain anything with Sam in the room, not really. Castiel was going to have to bide his time and put up, for now, with Dean’s tantrum, before he got to wipe Dean’s memory of the date from his mind. He was glad he’d decided to do that, because there was clearly no way Dean would want to date him again otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, classic miscommunication there, I feel! Cas must be so pleased with himself that he decided to make Dean forget. Poor Cas, I think he wants to forget too!
> 
> Thanks for reading x


	3. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel learns that sometimes dates aren't even dates … but that doesn't meant they're not worthwhile.

Castiel had waited until some time in the early morning for Dean to fall asleep so he could wipe the hunter’s memory of their disastrous date. Dean had sat up, glaring at him - but not speaking - for hours, before eventually turning in.  
  
Castiel wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong, exactly, but he figured that maybe it was his declaration of love. Maybe Dean was having a heard time dealing with Castiel being so brazen so early on into this relationship. He hadn’t been able to help it, however, the words seemed to bubble up inside him, and he was unable to prevent them from escaping his lips. At least when Dean woke up in the morning, he would have no recollection of Castiel’s faux pas.  
  
He was already imagining what they could do for their next date. Group activities were out, and Castiel was now aware that however they phrased it, it had to be clear to Sam that only Dean and Castiel were involved. Castiel wasn’t sure how to express that to Sam to make it absolutely clear that he was not invited, so he was trusting Dean to communicate with his brother.  
  
He spent most of the night watching Dean sleep once he had wiped the previous day from Dean’s mind, careful not to get in the way as Dean shifted on the bed, his legs sliding between the sheets and his hands tucking further and further under his chin and his pillow. His lips parted as he settled, and Castiel watched in fascination as they moved soundlessly for a moment, as though Dean was speaking, calling out for him. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on Castiel’s part. He found it endearing when Dean would rub his head against the pillow in his sleep, as though he was looking for some comfort and the closest he could find was in the cloth-covered feathers below his head.  
  
Castiel was filled with a desire to crawl onto the bed, balancing as he slowly made his way to Dean, slip under the sheets himself, and press up against Dean’s warm body, wrapping his arms around Dean’s torso and burying his head in the nape of Dean’s neck, breathing in his scent, which had hints of apple and cinnamon and something earthier, possibly a reflection of all the pie he ate, and all the outdoor work he did. Either way, Castiel found the smell comforting, just like he found Dean’s company comforting. He wanted to close his eyes, lay there beside the man he adored, and feel Dean’s hands close over his arms, stroking softly, sense Dean’s head turning before the feather touch of his lips found their way through Castiel’s unruly spikes …  
  
Castiel didn’t move from where he stood. He knew he had to exercise caution when it came to Dean. There were limitations that Dean put in place to protect himself from getting hurt any more than he already had been in life. Castiel knew that, and he’d seen just enough of mankind to know they often put a wall up to hide behind, to protect their feelings from being damaged. It was one of the more fascinating aspects to Castiel, that humans were able to construct invisible barriers to protect invisible parts of themselves. If emotions and protective patterns were physical entities, Castiel presumed most people would walk around surrounded by ruins. But not Dean, Dean would be immersed in a fortress. Sam would possibly be skipping around in a meadow, by comparison.  
  
Day eventually broke, and Sam was the first to wake, stirring easily as the first feeble rays shone through the ineffectual curtains. He squinted as he rubbed his face, and then peeked up at Castiel.  
  
"Morning Cas. Everything okay?"  
  
"Everything is fine, Sam."  
  
"Cool. I’m going for a jog before Dean gets up, okay? In case he asks when I’m out. I’m assuming you’ll still be here when he wakes up?"  
  
Castiel nodded, and looked away as Sam crawled out of bed in just his boxers, approaching his bag and rooting through quickly before pulling out his jogging clothes and throwing them on, unafraid of nudity around his brother and the angel. When he was in a loose t-shirt and jogging bottoms, he scooped up his iPod and waved quickly to Castiel, who nodded and continued to watch Dean sleeping, oblivious to Sam shaking his head in amusement. The moment the door closed softly behind Sam, the tinny echo of music coming out of his headphones cut off, and Dean stirred in his sleep, sitting up slightly, the sheets slipping slowly down his taut bicep, revealing the tanned, slightly freckled skin, and if Castiel angled his head the right way, he could just glimpse the slightly pinker skin of Dean’s nipple, tucked just under Dean’s arm.  
  
"Mmm, what time is it?" Dean muttered, looking at Sam’s bed, and then flopping down. "Great."  
  
"Sam’s gone jogging," Castiel spoke up quickly. Dean made an impatient noise, which could easily have been a gurgle.  
  
"Great. Well, while he’s gone, I’m going to grab a shower. Will you be okay?"  
  
"I’ll be fine, Dean," Castiel smiled warmly at the hunter, who missed the gesture as he stumbled from his bed towards the en suite bathroom. Castiel took advantage of Dean’s lack of awareness to observe how Dean’s underwear clung to his skin, the large bulge at the front, the flattering curves of his backside, the slight dimples at the top of his ass that Castiel had an irrational urge to bite.

"Okay. We can talk about that date once I’m done, if Sam’s still out, right?"  
  
Dean paused by the doorway and looked back at Castiel, who smiled as innocently as he could possibly manage.  
  
"Sounds good, Dean, I can’t wait."  
  
Dean nodded, and gave him the briefest of smiles before shutting himself in the bathroom. Moments later, Castiel could hear the sound of running water, and he sat gingerly on the edge of Dean’s bed, lifting the pillow that had been under Dean’s head and sniffing the material for the trace of Dean’s scent as he imagined Dean’s body in the dim bathroom, naked under the flow of water, his hands rubbing soap in to every inch of skin. He could faintly hear Dean singing, some recent pop song he wouldn’t be caught dead singing if Sam was there, and Castiel smiled as he realised that Dean was letting Castiel see a part of him that he wouldn’t even share with his brother. Making Dean forget the bad date had made Dean forget he was mad at Castiel also. Maybe there was even a chance that Dean would be more enthusiastic for round two?  
  
Castiel put the pillow back on the bed just before the sound of the water cut off. Castiel knew that Dean wouldn’t be out of the bathroom just yet, he would want to brush his teeth and shave his face, which were human activities that Castiel certainly didn’t miss from his brief time without a Grace, though he did appreciate when Dean made that kind of effort. Castiel enjoyed the minty tang of Dean’s breath when they worked close together, and the smell of the cologne he worked into his cheeks. Dean’s various scents were heady and intoxicating for Castiel.  
  
Dean eventually emerged from the bathroom with a small towel wrapped around his waist, the two ends barely meeting up along his legs, and though he pinched the material together tightly, Castiel could still see a thick, muscular thigh flashing every time Dean stepped forward. He knew Dean was probably aware of his staring, but Castiel couldn’t help himself. God had done a wonderful job when he created humans, and when it came to Dean? He was probably God’s most impressive project yet.  
  
"Hey, Cas? Eyes up here." Dean pointed to his face, before heading to the dresser drawers under the television and rooting through the clothes inside. It was a quirk that Castiel found adorable. No matter where the brothers were staying, or for however long, Dean would put his clothes away in the closets and dressers provided, while Sam would live out of his bags, sometimes strewing his clothes across the floor and furniture. Dean began dressing himself, and Castiel managed to tear his eyes away from the hunter, looking at the bedside table where Dean’s phone sat, a lead running between it and the wall. He waited until he felt the bed sink down, a sign that Dean had finally dressed, to turn back to look at him. Dean was bare-foot, his jeans and a shirt on, and his towel was now slung around his neck as he lifted a corner and rubbed it over his scalp. Castiel swallowed, as Dean smiled at him.  
  
"Sam’s probably going to be forever on his jog, wanna go get breakfast? I mean, I know you don’t eat, but we could grab Sam some granola after I eat something decent."  
  
"Sounds good. Sam won’t be worried?"  
  
"Nah, I’ll text him," Dean leaned across Castiel to take his phone off the lead, and tap out a message, unaware of Castiel staring at him, at the way he concentrated on the tiny screen, as he used his large, rough hands to carefully handle the small handset. Another contradiction that made Dean so attractive to Castiel. He sent the message then spun the phone into his pocket, smiling at Castiel. "Give me a minute, and then we’ll go."  
  
Dean grabbed the socks he’d left beside him, and pulled them on his feet, before untucking his boots from underneath the bed and tugging them on too. He reached across Castiel again, not seeming to notice as Castiel inhaled the scene of shampoo as Dean’s short spikes grazed his face, and grabbed his car keys and wallet from the table.  
  
"Okay, I’m good," Dean announced, standing up and heading for the door of the motel room. Castiel followed quickly, and climbed into the Impala as a human would, while Dean sat in the driver’s seat. Dean paused, and turned to the angel. "So, how about we go for a drive first? Grab some breakfast in a while, and just drive for the hell of driving after that?"  
  
"Is this our date?" Castiel asked as innocently as possible. Dean laughed, a deep belly laugh that shook his whole frame.  
  
"Right, we were meant to talk about that! Sure, if you want, Cas. Just text Sam and tell him to fend for himself." Dean passed his cellphone, and Castiel started tapping on the phone, glad that the Winchesters had taught him how to use these things. He sent the message quickly, and while Dean was concentrating on the road, began scrolling through Dean’s contacts. Apart from three contacts for Sam, and Castiel’s number, he still had old friends who had fallen by the wayside, like Garth and Kevin, and even his father. And the vast majority of his contacts were females. Castiel felt a stab of jealousy, deep within his gut. "You text him yet?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What’re you doing now? Reading my texts?"  
  
"No, I wouldn’t."  
  
"Cas, I was teasing. So, you wanna make a day of it?"  
  
"That sounds good."  
  
Dean nodded, his eyes still on the road. Castiel turned his head to watch Dean, glad that he could technically do that all he wanted during this drive. Dean’s profile was as well sculpted as the rest of his physique, his prominent cheekbones and his plump lips and-  
  
"I’m feeling pancakes, is that cool?" Dean interrupted Castiel’s internal catalogue of adoration.  
  
"You’re the one eating, Dean."  
  
"Did you ever try pancakes as a human? Because if you didn’t, you’re missing out."  
  
"I’ll take your word for it, Dean. Watching you enjoy them will be enjoyment enough for me."  
  
Dean shook his head slowly.  
  
"Man, you don’t even know. At least you’re going to be a cheap date." Dean smirked, and Castiel frowned.  
  
"Is that supposed to be a good thing?"  
  
Dean laughed again, that deep rumbling laugh that Castiel could feel through the leather-bound seat.  
  
"Oh, Cas," he smirked again, but didn’t elaborate on the thought. Instead, he sat forward, squinting at the horizon, and Castiel happily went back to concentrating on the way Dean’s hair looked fluffier after his shower and how silky smooth his skin looked, and imagined how it would feel to have the shaved bristles of Dean’s cheeks scratch against his own. "You still with me, buddy?"  
  
Castiel shook his head, coming back around, out of his thoughts.  
  
"Sorry Dean."  
  
"Don’t be sorry, we’re here," Dean nodded at a Mom’n’Pop diner. "Are you alright, man? You don’t seem like you, much."  
  
"I’m just … glad, that you agreed to a date."  
  
Dean shrugged.  
  
"It’s pancakes and a mini road trip, Cas, it’s not a ring on my finger. Come on."  
  
Dean climbed out of the Impala, and headed for the sidewalk as Castiel stayed in the car, watching the hunter. Dean’s head was bowed slightly, and he walked with his knees apart, but even those imperfections were endearing to Castiel. He smiled to himself as Dean turned around and cocked his head at the door of the diner, and Castiel scrabbled to open the car door as he realised Dean was impatient for his meal. He joined the hunter on the sidewalk as Dean locked the car and nudged Castiel with his shoulder.  
  
"Seriously, man, what’s up?"  
  
Castiel looked up at Dean, his eyes locking onto Dean’s pink lips, imagining the kiss they had shared the day before, and how much he would love to do the same again. Or even take it further than the brief, chaste kiss that Dean had given him the day before. And though Castiel vocalised none of his thoughts, Dean seemed to understand, as though he could read the flavour of Castiel’s intentions in the air between them.  
  
"I need to eat, Cas, okay? And after, we’ll go somewhere and … talk."  
  
The way that Dean said that final word, the way his voice seemed to croak and break up on the single syllable, it said to Castiel that maybe Dean was more willing to be physical with him than he’d imagined, that maybe talk was code for what Castiel truly wanted. Because he talked all the time with Dean, and their relationship was strong thanks to their profound bond, but Dean must have known that Castiel’s proposal to date meant that he wanted another element to their relationship. So Castiel nodded, and walked with Dean into the diner, uncomplaining as they sat on the counter stools for Dean to order. Castiel posed with a cup of coffee as Dean ordered a short stack with a heavy side of bacon, and sipped from his own coffee cup.  
  
"Has Sam got back yet?" Dean leaned on the counter with one arm, and nodded at his phone, that was still in Castiel’s hand. Castiel passed it over to him, rather than check for messages himself, and Dean smiled briefly before concentrating on the screen. "Yeah, he has."  
  
Dean started tapping on the phone again, reaching across the counter and grabbing his coffee cup, holding it by the body as he sipped absent-mindedly on the hot liquid. Castiel grabbed his own cup, sipping his own drink and trying not to wince as the abundant taste of molecules passed over his tongue. He knew he only had to last until Dean had eaten, and he was sure he could push himself to cope with the coffee until then. Dean’s breakfast was placed in front of him, as he pocketed his phone, and picked up his fork, stabbing into the pancake and biting on the fluffy yellow pancake before groaning. That groan shot through Castiel’s system, spiking the rhythm of his heartbeat and warming his stomach, making his pants tight around his groin. How could Dean have so much effect on him with one primitive, guttural noise?  
  
"This is so good man, you sure you don’t want?" Dean asked with his mouth still full.  
  
"It’s fine, Dean. You, um, you have a little syrup," Castiel pointed to the corner of his mouth. Dean swiped at his mouth, on the wrong side, and Castiel’s face lit up as he smiled at the hunter’s misunderstanding. He leaned over on his seat and stroked the corner of Dean’s mouth with his thumb, catching Dean’s eyes which seemed to darken at the action. Castiel paused, his thumb still hovering by Dean’s face, the smear of syrup across the pad of his thumb. Had he made a huge mistake in being too forward? But then Dean caught his thumb in his mouth, the soft skin enveloping him up to the knuckle, his teeth grazing against the sensitive area of his thumb pad and his tongue reached out and licked the syrup away. It only lasted for a mere second, but Castiel was even more desperate for contact with Dean after the brief moment. He pulled his hand away, shaking slightly, reliving the feel of Dean’s slightly dry lips and the moist softness of his tongue, the way Dean’s eyes had closed almost automatically as he acted on impulse.  
  
They didn’t speak about what had happened, or make any eye contact with the local patrons. If anyone had witnessed those few seconds, Castiel knew Dean did not want to acknowledge it. Humans were strange in that way.  
  
Dean didn’t take long to finish his meal, throwing down some bills onto the table and clapping a hand on Castiel’s shoulder.  
  
"Come on, let’s go find somewhere."  
  
Dean’s touch sent tingles all over Castiel’s body, but he managed to stand and follow Dean to the door, fighting the urge to let his fingers graze against Dean’s. At any moment, he would push this too far, and Dean would no longer want to know. He waited it out as they climbed back into the car, and Dean drove off again, his eyes scouring the local landscape again.  
  
"Can I ask you something?" Dean broke their silence, still driving, only looking at the road.  
  
"Of course Dean, you can ask me anything." Castiel said enthusiastically.  
  
"And you’ll be completely honest?"  
  
"Why would I lie to you?"  
  
That earned Castiel a quick look, before Dean turned back to scanning the horizon.  
  
"How long have you wanted to do this? Like, how long’ve you been into me?"  
  
Castiel sucked in a deep breath. He wanted to answer poetically, something that would lodge in Dean’s memory. _I have loved you forever, since before you existed. I’ve loved all the atoms that eventually led to creating the man you have grown to be. I have loved you before your mother even knew that she had the capability of carrying you._  
  
"I’m not sure, Dean," he spoke slowly instead, covering up the need to spout poor rhyming couplets at the man. "We’ve always had such a significant bond, but when it became something more? Maybe it was when you refused Michael, and stood up to Zachariah, when it was clear you would stand up for everything you believed it. Especially as I knew, by then, that you would stand up for me."  
  
"That’s a pretty long time to have feelings that you don’t act on." Dean observed.  
  
"I suppose it is, for a human."  
  
Dean nodded, processing how long that scope of time really was for a being like Castiel.  
  
"So, I guess us dating, that doesn’t make us gay, does it? If anything, it’s beastiality."  
  
"I choose not to think of it that way, Dean."  
  
"How are you thinking about it?"  
  
"That you have a beautiful soul, and I’m fortunate to have met you."  
  
Dean stopped the car, looking at Castiel with a frown on his face, his features otherwise closed to exposing his emotions. The walls were up, Castiel noted sadly. He also realised they were parked in the outskirts of a field, out in the middle of nowhere.  
  
"Cas," Dean eventually muttered, his voice low and urgent and causing another reaction in Castiel’s vessel. And then he slid across, crawling over Castiel’s body, pushing down on the angel with his weight and heat before pressing his lips against the angel’s, sliding his hands along Castiel’s sides as his tongue probed into Castiel’s mouth, and Castiel almost froze in disbelief. Dean was voluntarily kissing him, the way he had fantasised about a thousand times, and it was everything he had hoped for, rough skin with gentle touches, caring hints in a passionate embrace, and Castiel could feel himself shaking as he slid down in the seat, unable to control himself as a thousand explosions set off along his body. Dean’s hands skimmed down, hooking around the back of Castiel’s knees and pulling them up onto the seat so they were laying along the leather, flush against each other, the kisses never seeming to end as Dean threaded his legs through Castiel’s, grunting and moaning as his body started rocking naturally against Castiel’s, and Castiel could feel his eyes rolling back in his head, even as a small voice of doubt started in the back of his mind.  
  
Dean wouldn’t do this, would he? It wouldn’t take a brief compliment and a moment in a diner to lead to this point, would it? He could feel the doubt growing even as he felt Dean’s erection pressing against him. How was this going to happen? How did two males connect on a sexual level? Castiel hadn’t given this enough thought.  
  
"Oh, Cas," Dean mumbled, and kissed down onto Castiel’s neck, his tongue flicking against Castiel’s stubble, his body even more insistent against Castiel’s, which had began to respond without Castiel’s awareness, grinding against Dean as though they could somehow merge into one person. Dean’s breathing was harsh, rasping, and he pulled his shirt off quickly before going back to Castiel’s neck, his hands sliding down Castiel’s shirt and working on the buttons. Castiel bucked against him, groaning involuntarily himself, as Dean chuckled quietly. "All in good time."  
  
The whisper sent shivers down Castiel’s spine, and dissolved the negative thought he’d been having that Dean was purely going through the motions with him. Those four words felt like confirmation that Dean wanted this as much as Castiel did. With a renewed confidence, Castiel worked his own hands down, along to Dean’s waistband, tugging at Dean’s belt and eventually getting the button undone, the zipper down.  
  
"Are you sure, Cas?" Dean breathed, propping himself on his hands, leaving Castiel’s neck alone. Castiel looked up at the human above him, his eyes scanning along Dean’s torso, to the dark hairs that began near his belly button and continued passed where Castiel’s were still holding onto his jeans. He didn’t remember feeling the hair on his fingers before, and was visited by the urge to stroke the line now. "I mean, we have all the time in the world-"  
  
"You’d want a second date?" Castiel gasped out, his own breath still erratic. Dean laughed quietly.  
  
"How about we don’t call this a date? We call this some fun after breakfast."  
  
Castiel’s finger slid along the trail of hair as he considered this, noticing that even the lightest of touch along the area made Dean’s stomach jump up, like the patch of skin there was sensitive.  
  
"Are you sure?" Castiel pressed. Dean smirked, and bent down to press his lips to Castiel’s once more, just briefly, lifting up again straight away; the motion almost as though Dean was doing press ups over the angel.  
  
"I’m sure, Cas. You don’t agree to date your best friend without understanding it’s more for the long term."  
  
"But you said-"  
  
"Cas, relax, okay?’ Dean began kissing his neck again. ‘Just relax, baby. All in good time."


	4. The Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean wants to make the date last the entire day. What could be more exciting yet terrifying? And how will Castiel handle the jealousy that comes with the attention Dean receives from women?

Castiel still couldn’t believe how affectionate Dean had been in the Impala, even hours after they had finished making out, touching, exploring each other’s bodies. Eventually, mouths swollen and red, skin slightly chafed, they had just laid together along the front seat, their legs tangled together, fingers interlocked as they rested.  
  
‘So, since this was just fooling around in the car,’ Dean spoke eventually, his breath warming a spot on Castiel’s neck. ‘Did you just wanna make the whole day a date? We’ve got all the time in the world. Sammy can live without us for the day.’  
  
‘Okay,’ Castiel sounded unsure. He hadn’t banked on Dean actually showing an interest like this, or taking charge.  
  
‘You got anything in mind for what we could do?’ Dean’s thumb started stroking softly along Castiel’s hand, sending small shivers of pleasure over Castiel’s skin.  
  
‘Um,’ the truth was, Castiel had used most of his imagination on paintball, and he really hadn’t enjoyed the experience.  
  
‘It’s cool. We can drive around, look for something. It’s not like we have a curfew, right?’  
  
Castiel shifted his head along the leather, looking intently at Dean, trying to understand what he meant.  
  
‘Come on, angel boy,’ Dean kissed his nose gently, and sat up, pulling his shirt back on and untangling his legs from Castiel’s. Castiel sat up slowly, taking his shirt and sliding it back on as Dean started the car back up, driving out of the field and scouring the horizon again.  
  
‘So, fancy cattle wrangling?’  
  
‘What’s that?’  
  
‘God knows. Okay, a hay ride?’  
  
‘Isn’t hay immobile?’  
  
Dean burst out laughing.  
  
‘Oh, man, Cas! Okay, um, wanna catch a game?’  
  
Castiel pressed his lips together, trying to understand what Dean meant. Dean seemed to interpret his silence correctly.  
  
‘A ball game, Cas. Football, baseball, whatever. We’ll get some rickety old seats and eat hotdogs covered in ketchup and mustard. It’ll be fun.’  
  
It didn’t sound like so much fun to Castiel. It sounded exactly like paintball, like Dean could play macho and ignore the tension between them, and Castiel wanted it to feel like a date. He wanted all of Dean’s attention, all of his eye contact. He wanted to unlock all the secrets that Dean kept locked so close to his chest. He wanted the chance for intimacy, and privacy, like they had just experienced. But Castiel was aware that describing such detail to Dean would chase him off. Dean was still playing it safe.  
  
‘What about a bar?’ Castiel said eventually. Dean looked at him out of the corner of his eye, and Castiel pretended not to notice.  
  
‘Sure, we can go to a bar.’ He nodded.  
  
‘Not one of the ones you normally go to, with the black walls and sticky floors and three types of drink.’ Castiel decided. Dean smirked.  
  
‘Okay princess. We’ll find a good one. I should probably get changed first though, they don’t normally let people into those places wearing jeans.’  
  
Castiel frowned. He’d been correct in assuming Dean would make note of attire. But, he speculated, at least Dean seemed enthusiastic about trying it, rather than complaining about dressing nicely. Maybe there was hope for the things Castiel wanted yet. He just had to keep trying to make it sound like this was all Dean’s idea, to keep him compliant.  
  
‘We should go shopping. You could probably do with a better outfit. You look like you’re going to check their receipts.’  
  
Castiel didn’t understand what Dean was implying, but he liked the idea of shopping with Dean, though he’d never experienced retail before.  
  
‘As you wish,’ Castiel smiled. He caught the moment that Dean shook his head, smiling to himself.  
  
Dean pulled smoothly into an out-of-town shopping mall, and looked at Castiel appraisingly.  
  
‘So, I’m going to guess you have no idea what you wanna wear, right?’ Dean smirked. ‘We’ll do a deal, I pick an entire outfit for you, you pick one for me. Right?’  
  
Castiel grinned back, already trying to picture how he’d like Dean to look on their date. For some reason, he settled on a scene he’d seen in another movie, of a one piece in a rather hideous green, that stretched from the shoulders to the crotch. Castiel hadn’t understood much of the movie, but he had liked that scene when he imagined Dean in that outfit. Surely they’d have some at the mall?  
  
He followed Dean into the building, letting Dean take charge once again as he headed towards a store crowded with denim and plaid shirts like Sam favoured. Castiel tried to swallow down his displeasure at being in the store. Dean wasn’t going to dress him like Sam, was he? They’d broken down some boundaries, making out heavily in the Impala. Dressing like Sam, Castiel felt, would be a huge step back.  
  
‘Dean, we’re going to a nice bar, aren’t we?’ Castiel said in a quiet voice, trying to slip his hand into Dean’s. Dean pulled his hand away as soon as he felt Castiel’s fingers graze his palm.  
  
‘Yeah, sure,’ he looked at Castiel, and sighed. ‘Okay, nothing like this stuff?’  
  
Castiel shook his head, and Dean shrugged, turning on his heel and heading straight back out of the store, Castiel hurrying to keep up. They approached a large department store and headed over to the men’s section, where a cheerful sales girl started chattering away to Castiel.  
  
‘Hello, can I help you with anything today?’ She beamed. Castiel eyed her warily, before glancing up at Dean. Dean merely shrugged, and thumbed through a nearby pile of polo shirts.  
  
‘Um, yes. My-my friend and I,’ Castiel was careful to not name Dean as his date. ‘We’re going to a bar. A nice one. I have to pick an outfit out for him. What do you suggest?’  
  
Dean raised an eyebrow at Castiel, and Castiel knew he was silently being accused of cheating at the game. The girl looked at Dean, and her eyes bugged open wide.  
  
‘Oooooh, well,’ the girl began babbling too fast for Castiel to keep up. He stopped paying attention, too caught up with how Dean had begun to smirk, watching this thin girl over-gesturing as she described … whatever it was about clothes that had made her talk so enthusiastically. Dean winked at him, and he could practically hear Dean teasing him for trying to cheat.  
  
‘Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind,’ Castiel blurted out as the girl took a breath, and hurried into the next section, Dean openly laughing behind him as he followed.  
  
‘Wanna start again?’ Dean asked, still laughing in short bursts, as though he kept finding new things to be amused at. Castiel stopped at a display of button-down shirts, and pulled a soft grey one from the pile.  
  
‘It’s fine, Dean. I think I can work it out.’  
  
‘Uh huh, it’s only pants, a shirt, maybe a jacket. And shoes. Not rocket science.’  
  
Castiel nodded, crossing the floor to grab some blue dress trousers and a navy jacket, and at the last minute, grabbing a cravat from a display, before passing them over to Dean.  
  
‘These.’  
  
Dean looked at the pile, his nose wrinkling at the cravat, a black-and-white patterned silk thing, but then looked back at Castiel, his expression softening.  
  
‘Fine, I’ll try them once I’ve picked something out for you.’

*

Dean had insisted that Castiel stay put as he walked around picking out clothes. Castiel had no idea what Dean would be thinking, whether his reaction to the cravat would be a way for him to seek revenge or whether he’d want to show Castiel off. But it had been fine, Dean had returned with some tan slacks, a white shirt, and a blue sweater, before he pulled Castiel into a nearby changing room. And then he had undressed Castiel, his fingers moving quickly as he unbuttoned Castiel’s shirt and pushed it off, exposing Castiel’s chest and causing goosebumps to erupt all over his body. It was only when Castiel was stood in the small cubicle, in white boxer-briefs and his black socks that Dean looked up at his face, and saw the lustful gaze that Castiel had been shooting him.  
  
‘Dude, we’re in public.’ He whispered, and leaned closer, making sure that only Castiel would be able to hear. ‘Did you not get enough in the car?’  
  
Castiel shook his head. How could there ever be enough Dean? But he had passed Castiel the outfit, and turned around to change himself, keeping enough distance that they couldn’t graze against each other. Castiel had reluctantly put the outfit on that Dean had given him, and looked over at Dean again as he straightened out the jacket he was wearing. Castiel fell in love all over again, or still, or harder, or whichever phrase was technically correct for the searing pain in his head and the rush of heat to his abdomen. Dean looked so good in the clean lines and soft colours, and Castiel fought the urge to reach over and run his fingers through Dean’s short hair, to trace Dean’s jawline with his fingertips, to kiss every millimetre of skin he could find. Dean caught his eye in the mirror and smiled weakly.  
  
‘We’re not going to spend time with any pretentious douchebags, are we?’  
  
Castiel shook his head, glad that Dean would be so against interacting with other people in the bar. That meant more focus on Castiel. That meant more intimacy, more Dean, more togetherness.  
  
Dean had managed to convince the chatty salesgirl to ring their outfits up while they were still wearing them, placing Castiel’s suit and trench coat, and Dean’s worn jeans and sweatshirt into one of their waxed paper bags, gabbling incessantly at both men. Dean smiled and nodded and responded with short answers, trying to escape the store. He looked annoyed as he headed to the car, and Castiel watched him they walked. What had suddenly turned Dean’s mood sour? Was it just the shop assistant? Dean drove back towards the motel, and just as Castiel began to have misgivings, Dean pulled the car over, onto a derelict road.  
  
‘Okay. Okay,’ he seemed to be steeling himself for what he was about to say. ‘Okay, Cas, I know I said I’d agree to this date, and today’s been … well, it’s been way more fun than I thought it was going to be so far. But can we have some ground rules for the bar? Like, no touching, no kissing, no nothing in public. Right?’  
  
‘Are you ashamed of me, Dean?’ Castiel asked softly, his eyes darting away from the hunter for the first time in weeks. He didn’t want to see the look of regret on Dean’s face.  
  
‘What? No. No Cas. I just don’t want any trouble, okay? And it’d be great if we could just enjoy a date together, but I don’t wanna have to deal with idiots who can’t … who don’t … just trust me on this.’  
  
‘This isn’t about the sales assistant, is it?’  
  
‘Cas,’ Dean slid his palm up, against Castiel’s jawline, cupping his face, the warmth of his palm making Castiel’s heart flutter. He stroked his thumb gently across Castiel’s cheekbone, until Castiel looked back up at him. ‘She was annoying as hell. But it’s nothing to do with her. It is about the eye sex in the changing room. It was barely okay there.’  
  
Castiel looked at him, at those familiar moss-green eyes with golden flecks, at the soul peeking its way out of the deep, dark irises to grab Castiel right in the core of his being. Not his vessel, his very essence. Dean stared back, for an infinite amount of time, it seemed.  
  
‘This is what I mean by eye sex,’ Dean eventually spoke again, his voice cracking as he did.  
  
‘You’re not looking away,’ Castiel pointed out. Dean bit back a smile, which softened his features and made him look ten years younger. Humans had that knack.  
  
‘I didn’t say I wanted to,’ Dean pointed out simply, and turned his head to look around, outside the car. Noticing how barren the world looked at that moment, he turned back and caught Castiel’s lips softly with his own, moving slowly, tenderly, and Castiel felt his insides warming up, melting into a puddle within the structure of his skin. Dean resisted Castiel’s attempts to slip his tongue into his mouth, and pulled away far too quickly for Castiel’s liking. ‘Come on, the shop girl at least knew where the kind of bar you’d like would be.’  
  
He sat around again, starting up the car and pulling out smoothly onto the road again, concentrating on driving as Castiel concentrated on him, on the man who set his heart fluttering erratically just by being in close proximity. Dean didn’t look at Castiel again until he parked up outside a stark-looking building, all white stucco walls and nondescript panelled windows towards the ceiling.  
  
‘Was she sure that we were aiming for this bar?’ Castiel asked dubiously. Dean laughed, shaking his head and gripping the steering wheel.  
  
‘Oh, Cas, trust me, they spend the money on the inside. Come on.’ Dean climbed out of the car swiftly, waiting around the front of the car for Castiel to get out, and walk beside him into the bar.  
  
‘How about I grab us some beer and you go grab us a table?’ Dean suggested, striding slightly ahead of Castiel and leaning against the bar, which Castiel noted was lit on the top by fluorescent bar lights. The entire lighting scheme in the bar seemed out of the norm, most of the light source coming from the bar or the individual table tops. He felt disoriented, and followed Dean to the bar, standing close beside him. Dean cast a glance behind them.  
  
‘Dude, half the tables are empty.’  
  
‘I’m not sure I’m going to like this bar,’ Castiel decided. ‘I don’t understand it.’  
  
Dean sighed, holding up two fingers to the bar girl as she caught his eye.  
  
‘Look man, I’m trying something very new for you, and I’m pleasantly surprised by it. So deal, we’re staying here now. Especially now our beers are in.’ He nodded at the bar girl, who had put the bottles on the table, and accepted the twenty he slid her way. And then Castiel found Dean waving a beer bottle in his face, grinning slightly, before he accepted his change and led the way to one of the tiny tables. Castiel sat on the seat opposite Dean apprehensively, feeling slightly better when Dean’s knee grazed against his leg. At least this bar had that going for it, the compromising personal space that came from too-small tables, designed purely to hold a few glasses of alcohol. Dean sat forward, leaning his head towards Castiel’s.  
  
‘So, wanna talk about anything in particular? Or just coffee?’  
  
‘Tell me things from your childhood.’ Castiel decided. Dean smirked, playing with a coaster.  
  
‘Geez Cas, didn’t you see it all?’  
  
‘I didn’t know to look for you then. I wish I had.’  
  
‘Mmm, way to make it creepy,’ Dean grinned before placing his lips around the bottle neck, tongue in place before he tipped the bottle back. Castiel felt his penis twitch just from that small act. How was he supposed to act like he wasn’t on a date with Dean when he drank his beer the way he did? How was he supposed to resist taking the drink out of Dean’s grip and slide himself onto Dean’s lap, holding the hunter’s head between two gentle hands and kiss him in front of everyone?  
  
Before Dean could start reminiscing, or changing the subject, before Castiel managed to erase the fantasy from his mind, two girls approached them, giggling incessantly. Castiel would not even have noticed, if Dean hadn’t looked up, removing the bottle from his mouth and smiling innocently. That smile was meant to be Castiel’s smile.  
  
‘Hello,’ Dean nodded at them. Castiel turned and looked them over quickly. Both were thin girls, dressed inappropriately in short shirts and tube tops, their faces overly made up and hair coiffed to near stiffness. He turned back to face Dean without acknowledging them further.  
  
‘Hi, so, me and my friend have a bet?’ One girl giggled, stepping forward and sliding onto Dean’s knee herself. Castiel couldn’t place the emotion that small action sparked, but he knew that, if the room wasn’t rapidly filling up, he would have stuck his angel blade right into her heart. Dean was _his_. ‘That you and your friend would buy us a drink?’  
  
Why did this girl pose everything she said like a question? Castiel found the habit frustrating. Dean met his eye, fighting a smirk with humour dancing in his eyes. Castiel recognised the look, it was similar to the time that Dean had dragged him into a strip club. Castiel had managed to ruin that trip also, and luckily Dean had seen the humour in it. Maybe this situation was so similar that it had triggered a memory for Dean also, and that was what the smirk was about?  
  
‘Why would we do that?’ Dean asked, still fighting the smile, as the girl slid her arms around Dean’s neck.  
  
‘Because you’re good guys,’ the girl breathed, and leaned closer to Dean, her eyes sliding shut and her mouth puckering forward and-  
  
Castiel was out of his seat before he knew it, heading for the exit of the bar. So much for their intimacy. Was this technically Dean cheating on him? And had the friend been trying to flirt with Castiel? As he hit the sidewalk, he realised he had heard a shriek, and someone behind him had hampered his progress out of the bar, for a moment anyway. He felt guilt for a short moment, before his frustration and anger and betrayal took over. This was his date with Dean! Who did that girl think she was? She didn’t ask Dean’s permission to touch him, she just dived in, immediately getting the kind of tenderness from Dean that Castiel could only dream of-  
  
‘Hey! HEY! CAS!’ Dean was practically screaming behind him. And then, slightly closer. ‘Son of a - what the hell was that?’  
  
‘She was going to kiss you,’ Castiel told the sidewalk as he continued walking.  
  
‘Oh my God, Cas! She was a skank, trying to get wasted for free. Hey, look at me!’ Dean grabbed at Castiel’s arm, pulling him around to face Dean. ‘I didn’t forget that we’re on a date. I was trying to find the point to let her down gently, okay?’  
  
Dean’s voice was softer, but he made no effort to comfort Castiel, to stroke his arm or pull him into a hug or anything Castiel would have wanted. Because for Dean, it was easier to flirt with the skank at the bar than it was to be vulnerable with Castiel. And Castiel hated that feeling, that he was somehow second best to someone they had barely met when Dean meant so much.  
  
‘Cas, trust me, nothing was going to happen. Nothing. Not after- not after this morning man. But check it, Cas, if you’re serious about us being a thing, about you wanting this? You trust me. Because if you don’t, we have no chance, whatsoever. So trust me, and be patient, and let me do what I need to because I’m freaking human, okay?’  
  
Castiel nodded, and forced himself to smile, to look into Dean’s eyes as though he had nothing to hide.  
  
‘You’re right Dean. I didn’t trust that woman, that’s all. Did you want to go back in there?’  
  
Dean shook his head.  
  
‘Nah, we’re good. Besides, I think you’d get arrested if you walked back in, you busted that girl’s nose up pretty well. I didn’t get jealous over that, by the way.’  
  
‘You know I only have eyes for you,’ Castiel breathed. Dean laughed.  
  
‘Yeah, I know. Look, let’s just call it a night, and we’ll do something better tomorrow, okay? Promise.’  
  
And then, shocking Castiel completely, Dean reached closer and gave him a swift kiss on the lips, before heading back to the Impala. Castiel traced a finger where Dean’s lips had just been, feeling conflicted. In so many ways, it would be awful to wipe Dean’s memory of this day. But Castiel had made the decision, and he was sticking to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not actually happy with this chapter, but GrammarDemon swears it's fine. I'm still not sure, but I trust her … I think ;)


	5. The non-date date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel begins to reconsider his decision to go out with Dean. But would Dean possibly try to change his mind?

Dean and Sam had finally decided to leave town, with Castiel in tow. Castiel kept watching Dean as they packed up, and filled the car, checked out and drove off, but Dean didn’t seem to remember anything of the previous few days. Castiel sank into the leather backseat in relief, his eyes averted from the front seat as Sam read through several papers, discussing potential jobs with Dean. If Castiel were to raise his head and look forward, he would be inundated with memories of the morning before with Dean; lying in his arms, sinking into his chest, the firm-yet-soft feel of his lips against every inch of Castiel’s skin … even now it felt too much.  
  
Castiel was still dwelling on their argument the night before, the one that erupted because Dean hadn’t immediately told that girl in the bar to get lost. He knew now that chasing after Dean would only lead to heartache, and no matter how hard he tried, Castiel would never have Dean the way he wanted. The awkward kisses from Dean on the sidewalk, in the car and just before going back into the motel room had been proof of that. Dean had been so distracted. There had been no passion there, nothing that could soothe the burning need Castiel felt when he was near Dean. And if dating him didn’t take that away, then what was the point?  
  
The car stopped moving, and Dean climbed out of the car. Castiel looked up, and noticed that they were in a garage. He could hear from the scraping outside that Dean was filling up the car. Sam turned in his seat and looked at Castiel with concern.  
  
‘Hey Cas, are you okay? You’ve been kinda quiet back there. Something happen when you and Dean were hanging out yesterday?’  
  
‘No,’ Castiel lied, his voice softened with his heartache. ‘I’m just reflecting. You and Dean, you drive for miles and barely seem to notice the wonders that you drive past every day.’  
  
Sam chuckled, reaching across the seat to pat Castiel on the shoulder.  
  
‘Don’t ever change, Cas.’  
  
Castiel sighed heavily. Maybe that was the issue, Dean would want him to change. Dean rapped his knuckles against the window from outside and waited for Sam to wind it down.  
  
‘Hey man, I’m gonna grab something to eat. Anything you want?’  
  
Sam shrugged.  
  
‘Anything that’s not too unhealthy.’  
  
Dean just laughed, and jogged away into the store to pay for the gas and grab some food. Sam turned back to Castiel.  
  
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’  
  
‘I’m fine, Sam,’ Castiel responded testily. Dean hadn’t even looked at him before heading into the store. He’d focused on Sam, and ignored Castiel completely. Castiel had definitely wiped Dean’s memories of the day before, so it wasn’t like there was any valid reason why Dean would be ignoring him so completely. Was there?  
  
Dean climbed back in the car, passing the bag to Sam and placing the keys in the ignition. Sam poked through the bag, shaking his head as he did so.  
  
‘Dude, all you got was whiskey, beer, jerky and pie.’  
  
‘Yeah, because I don’t forget the pie.’  
  
Castiel zoned out as they bickered for a few minutes about pie, and Dean finally put the car into drive.

*

At the new motel, Sam had gone to check them in, and Dean had turned in his seat to look at Castiel.  
  
‘Hey man, are you okay? You haven’t said a word the entire drive. You haven’t even done that staring thing you do. Did I piss you off or something?’  
  
‘No, Dean,’ Castiel sounded weary.  
  
‘Well, okay. Look, Sam and me, we’ve got to see about this case. Sounds like a regular old haunting to me. But when we’re done, you wanna talk about that date?’  
  
This was the only problem with erasing Dean’s memory with every passing date. He couldn’t remember why Castiel was so disappointed. He was smiling and looking as adorable as ever, his green eyes almost sparkling, the freckles more prominent than usual on his cheeks. He had no idea that the night before, he’d kissed someone else in front of Castiel and broken the angel’s heart.  
  
‘We don’t have to worry about that, Dean,’ Castiel muttered. Dean narrowed his eyes, as Sam opened the passenger door and sat inside, without closing the door behind him.  
  
‘We’re good to go. Room two-nineteen. Key.’ He passed a swipe card to Dean, who flipped it between his fingers a few times.  
  
‘Thanks man. Hey, I’ll catch you up, I wanna talk to Cas for a second.’  
  
Sam looked between his brother and the angel, and then nodded.  
  
‘Okay. See you later.’  
  
Sam grabbed his rucksack, and jogged into the stairwell. Dean watched his progress, and then turned back to Castiel, still frowning. Castiel wished he wouldn’t, the frown marred his beautiful features, and hid his eyes.  
  
‘What the hell do you mean, we don’t have to worry about that? You don’t wanna go out with me any more?’  
  
Castiel shook his head, rather than answer, and Dean’s frown deepened.  
  
‘Tough luck. You can’t just spend weeks trying to convince me to go on a date with you then turn around and say you’re not bothered. I mean, did I do something?’  
  
Castiel looked away, out of the car window.  
  
‘No, Dean,’ he lied. ‘I’ve given it some thought and I realise that I shouldn’t have to convince you to date me. You should want to in the first place.’  
  
Castiel missed Dean rolling his eyes.  
  
‘Cas, shut up. Confidence is sexy, you know? You do wanna date me, and I said yes, so stop being such a damn child about it.’  
  
‘I’ve changed my mind, Dean.’  
  
Dean’s eyes narrowed further, as Castiel looked back at him.  
  
‘I don’t know why you’re so upset over my decision, anyway. It’s not like you date men normally.’  
  
And Castiel zapped himself out of the car before he could hear any more of Dean’s rebuttal.

*

Castiel had zapped himself to a remote mountainside somewhere in Nepal. Somewhere far away from Dean and his intense eye contact. Somewhere he could focus, where his vessel didn’t betray his emotions by physical manifestation. Somewhere his heart could break in silence.  
  
The mountainside was beautiful, and virtually inaccessible, a contrast of high, grey rock walls, coated in lime green moss, and vibrant flowers growing in the most unlikely and impractical of places. Castiel was surrounded by evidence of his father’s artistry and love, and he sat at the edge of the small ridge he’d landed on, and held his arms around his torso as though he could stop his vessel from breaking.  
  
He thought his decision to tell Dean that the pressure was off would be easier, that Dean would accept it and move on, maybe throw a few jokes at Castiel about the unlikeliness of their profound bond turning more profound. He didn’t expect Dean to take charge and order him to date him anyway. Yes, it was Dean’s style to take control and make decisions and follow them doggedly, but not with Castiel. Castiel was always more his equal.  
  
Castiel felt more confused than ever. How could Dean treat him like an equal and make Castiel believe they had a chance at a relationship, and then treat him like everyone else the moment Castiel tried to give him his free will? Hadn’t they bonded over free will in the first place? Wasn’t that one of the lessons that Dean had worked tirelessly to teach Castiel? It was such an important human notion, the angel knew that.  
  
And the way Dean had spoken to him, it sounded like with the memory wipe, Dean was almost enthusiastic for their “first date”, which confused Castiel even more. If Dean was enthusiastic for them to begin a relationship, then why had he kissed that girl? What was going on in the hunter’s head? And more importantly, how could Castiel return to the Winchesters without feeling his heart breaking?  
  
Castiel stayed perched on the ridge, holding himself in, for hours. He spent most of that time debating over and over in his head what was going on with Dean, and trying to convince himself that he wasn’t in love with the hunter. And yet, eventually, he heard Dean praying, and all the resolve of the hours on the mountainside disappeared in favour of responding to Dean.  
  
‘Cas? I know you’re still mad at me. I can’t figure out why, but … if you want to talk man, I’m ready. Sam’s met a girl from the case, he’s not going to be back all night, so we can talk this out. Just you and me. Okay?’  
  
Castiel sighed, his whole vessel moving with the action. Dean made it sound so reasonable, as though by sitting in a dingy motel room as the hunter drank his way through a bottle of scotch would be all they needed to fix this. But Dean probably knew the truth, that Castiel was too enamoured to leave it alone. So of course he zapped back.  
  
Dean had surprised him. The motel room was neat, almost to military precision. Almost, because Dean had covered the table in the small kitchenette with a cloth, and put on of his ritual candles on the table also. It was lit, and covered in a waxy build up from previous use where the molten beeswax had run down the taper. Beside the candle was a small vase with a single flower in it, a purple pansy that contrasted heavily with the green theme of the room. And Dean was leaning against the kitchenette worktop, staring at him in the candlelight.  
  
‘What is this?’ Castiel asked, his tone harsh as he tried to work out the hunters’ motives.  
  
‘Like I said, we need to talk.’ Dean shrugged, standing straight and approaching Castiel, shucking the trench coat off of the angel. Castiel watched Dean intently, their eyes fixed on one another, as Dean removed the coat completely and flung it onto the nearest bed. Castiel was reminded vividly of their time the previous morning in the car, and he felt his body responding to the sexual tension between them. His heart rate spiked, he could feel it thudding hard in his chest, his breathing faltered, and he could feel himself growing in his pants. Dean helped him out of his jacket also, his eyes locked on Castiel’s. He broke the silence. ‘You’re always trying to have eye sex with me.’  
  
Castiel remembered Dean saying that yesterday, though the day before there was a teasing quality to the topic and now there was a quiver in Dean’s voice, as though suddenly there was more weight on that fact. And Castiel responded as he had before.  
  
‘You’re not looking away.’  
  
He saw Dean blink, as though he had been hit momentarily by deja vu, before he stood back, gesturing at the table.  
  
‘Yeah, well, I wanted to do you dinner, the whole bit, but then I remembered you’re an angel, you don’t eat-‘  
  
‘I’ll eat.’ Castiel sounded enthusiastic, and Dean did a double take.  
  
‘Really?’  
  
‘Yes. I appreciate the effort, Dean.’  
  
‘You know I’m counting this as our date, right?’ Dean smiled. Castiel looked again at the table, set out for a romantic date, and considered his options.  
  
‘You only agreed to one date, Dean.’  
  
That time, he saw Dean roll his eyes.  
  
‘Okay, Cas, sit down.’ He pointed at the chair. Castiel crossed the room and sank into the chair Dean had indicated, feeling out of sorts. What had made Dean change from flirting to suddenly ordering him around? Dean crashed into the other chair, leaning onto the table, his face close to the tiny flame of the candle. ‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you, man, but you have to calm down. Okay? Just let whatever’s going to happen between us happen. Because I might not be here tomorrow, and this isn’t the way I wanna spend whatever time I get. Just stop over-thinking, okay? I said yes. That should be enough.’  
  
‘Dean,’ Castiel shook his head, overwhelmed by Dean’s vehemence. ‘I-‘  
  
‘I said yes, Cas. The least you can do is respect that.’  
  
Dean glared at Castiel, and the angel looked away, at the lone pansy in the vase.  
  
‘You’re right. You’ve gone to a lot of effort for tonight. Is Sam really out with a girl?’  
  
Dean seemed to relax at the change in conversation, his tone changed completely.  
  
‘Yeah. She graduated from Brown so they were talking college for forever. Somehow that earned him a date. And I figured since he was going to be gone so long, maybe you and me could work this out.’  
  
Castiel nodded, and finally looked at Dean again, who was still leaning on the table, but now he was smiling slightly. Castiel felt emboldened by Dean’s demeanour, and sat closer, reaching a hand out towards Dean’s. Dean let him wind their fingers together, and stared down at their hands. Castiel was strongly reminded again of their intense make out session in the Impala, and Dean’s tenderness afterwards. He stood up, walking around the table, still holding Dean’s hand, and sat on his thigh the way the girl had the previous night. Dean bent his neck back, looking up at him.  
  
‘Are you okay, Cas?’  
  
Castiel didn’t trust himself to answer. He slid his other hand into Dean’s short bristles, until he was holding Dean’s head gently, and then he stooped down slightly, and pressed his mouth against Dean’s.  
  
Every one of their kisses so far had felt different. Each one was enjoyable, but they all had a unique tone to them. This one felt tenuous, as though Dean wasn’t sure what to make of Castiel’s sudden attention despite automatically kissing back. It was slow, and soft, and Castiel found himself listening to the slight smacking sound that happened every time their lips parted, his concentration split between the feel of Dean’s lips pressed against his and the way Dean’s hand slid up his back, fingers splayed, where he applied a slight pressure. Castiel let Dean draw him closer, their bodies pressed against each other, Dean’s breathing beginning to falter as he pushed his tongue through Castiel’s lips. The tenuous nature of the kiss had gone, dissipated in the growing passion between them. Dean dragged the hand he was holding up, until their clasped hands were pressed between their chests, and then he unwound his fingers from Castiel’s, and slid his hand under Castiel’s ass, squeezing slightly as his palm caressed Castiel through his slacks.  
  
And then Dean lifted Castiel up, nudging Castiel’s legs around his waist, and stood up, carrying the angel to one of the beds, where he fell backwards, and brought the angel with him, on top of him. Castiel could not believe that they were in Dean’s bed in a mess of limbs. He remembered Dean kissing down his neck the previous day, and decided to repay the favour to Dean. He regretted leaving Dean’s lips the moment that he made the decision, but it was worthwhile to hear Dean gasping for breath, to feel Dean’s stubble scratch at his lips as he worked down Dean’s chin with small kisses, along the sensitive skin under Dean’s jaw and along to the side, where his kisses sent Dean into a spasm, his body rolling under Castiel’s as the angel kissed and licked and nipped at the same part of Dean’s neck.  
  
‘Fuck, Cas,’ Dean gasped out. Castiel smiled to himself, enjoying hearing Dean fall apart, loving the fact he could feel Dean’s heart thumping in his own chest, competing to be as ferocious as Castiel’s. Maybe the hunter did love him in the same way, and Dean was always too conservative to let it be known? Castiel wasn’t concerned with the details at that moment, he was more concerned with turning Dean to putty. He began tugging at Dean’s over shirt, pushing it off, trying to balance over Dean as he realised what Castiel wanted, wriggling out of the shirt and flinging it to the side, pulling off his under shirt and flinging that out in the same direction, onto the other bed. Castiel gazed down as Dean’s firm, muscular chest and torso, tracing a finger over Dean’s well defined abdomen. Dean laughed, letting go of Castiel’s ass to reach up and slide his hands into Castiel’s hair, tugging Castiel gently back towards him. ‘Man, if this is what you’re like when we’re not on a date, I can’t wait for when we’re on one.’  
  
Castiel slid his arms around Dean’s ribs, sinking into him as Dean continued to coax him down.  
  
  
‘I thought you were counting this as our date?’ Castiel reminded him, his voice shaking with lust.  
  
‘Maybe I’m getting greedy.’ Dean smirked, pushing his head up to meet Castiel’s so they could kiss again.  
  
‘I like you greedy,’ Castiel admitted with his lips pressed against Dean’s. Dean laughed, his whole frame rocking, and Castiel’s erection grew, pressing against Dean’s leg.  
  
‘Mmmm, talking of greedy,’ Dean laughed, and wound Castiel’s tie around one hand and pulled him even closer, licking into Castiel’s mouth. Castiel could feel Dean’s body temperature rising, despite not wearing a shirt, and beads of Dean’s sweat permeated Castiel’s shirt. Castiel felt emboldened by Dean’s enthusiasm, and he forgot his earlier lament completely, stroking his hands down the sides of Dean’s body, enjoying the way Dean thrust out beneath him, as he inched his way to Dean’s jeans, intent on working them off next.  
  
And then a strange beeping filled the room, and Dean tucked his chin down, making it difficult for Castiel to continue kissing him.  
  
‘Cas, that’s the food.’  
  
‘Forget about it.’ Castiel insisted, running his nose down Dean’s as he tried to capture the hunter’s lips once again.  
  
‘I can’t Cas, I can’t burn this place down. And I’m hungry. Just let me eat, and we’ll get back to this, okay?’  
  
‘Do you mean that?’ Castiel breathed, his teeth working on Dean’s full bottom lip. Dean sniggered.  
  
‘Of course, Cas. Now let me up, before it burns.’  
  
‘Make me,’ Castiel smirked. Dean grinned back, and pushed Castiel off him before rolling off of the bed and making his way back to the kitchenette, grabbing a potholder and taking a tray out of the small oven. Castiel propped himself up on his elbow, and watched as Dean walked around, finding a plate and a fork, serving up his food and placing it on the table. Castiel paid attention to all of Dean’s movements, the way his muscles flexed and tendons pulled, how he nodded his head as he hummed, focused on the food. Dean looked up as he sat down, and caught Castiel’s eye.  
  
‘Did you want some?’  
  
‘I’m sure it’ll just taste of molecules,’ Castiel shrugged. ‘Watching you eat will be good enough for me.’  
  
Dean smirked, and shook his head, sticking his fork into his dinner.  
  
‘What did you cook?’ Castiel asked, still watching Dean’s naked torso. He was glad Dean hadn’t put his top back on, because he got to stare hungrily at Dean while Dean ate.  
  
‘Pot pie. You sure you don’t want any?’  
  
‘I’m sure. I know how you feel about pie.’  
  
Dean smirked again, and carried on eating. He worked through half of the pie before they heard footsteps outside, and heard the slide of the keycard in the lock. Castiel clicked his fingers quickly, just as the door began to swing open, and the tablecloth, candle and pansy disappeared. Dean remained topless. Sam looked around the room, his expression perplexed.  
  
‘Guys? Is everything okay?’  
  
‘Yes. How was your date?’ Dean asked before shoving more of the pastry crust into his mouth.  
  
‘Good. She was nice.’ Sam nodded. ‘Any reason why you’re not wearing a shirt?’  
  
‘I got hot,’ Dean shrugged. Sam nodded, and looked over at Castiel, who looked back innocently. Sam raised his eyebrows, but said nothing more about the scene in front of him.  
  
‘Got any of that pie going?’  
  
Dean chuckled.  
  
‘Nope, all mine. I think there’s still some jerky?’  
  
‘You’re an asshole.’ Sam told Dean, before crossing the room and flopping on the other bed. ‘And dude, don’t leave your shit on my bed.’  
  
Sam flung the shirts back towards Dean, where they fell short and covered Castiel’s face. Dean and Sam both started laughing, but Castiel didn’t care. The cloth smelled strongly of Dean, and all Castiel wanted to do was bunch it up and sniff it heavily. If Sam wasn’t there, he would have. He peeked out of the material and caught Dean’s eye, and the lust that was in there as well as … an apology? Castiel accepted that there would be nothing more between himself and Dean that night, but from the look in Dean’s eye … maybe Castiel could relent and let him remember today? After all, things were looking up between Dean and himself. Maybe Dean felt something for Castiel that could begin to compare to the angel’s emotions?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this is the first chapter I'm putting up unedited. Sorry for any typos, I'll try to read through and catch them but I'm horrible at doing that, so don't hold out too much hope!
> 
> Also, I've been working on a companion piece from Dean's perspective on this, but it's got a different tone to it (despite following the same narrative and having the same dialogue) so I don't really want to put it up unless people would want to read it. Let me know!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Castiel decided not to wipe Dean's memory, they wake up together for the first time. But can Castiel handle the way their relationship is developing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm not too good with tags, but I feel I should warn you that this story is getting a little heavy, and this chapter is NSFW. That may become a theme throughout as well.

After Sam walked in on Dean and Castiel in their compromised positions, the evening had consisted of an awkward silence, briefly interrupted by some stilted conversations on neutral topics, and Sam crawling into bed as soon as the alarm clock on the side table clicked to ten o’clock. As soon as he did, Dean cleared up the plates and pans from his dinner and climbed into his own bed, cuddling up to Castiel, who was still on the bed. Castiel felt nervous yet excited to be so close to Dean so late at night, after being so connected that evening, and he snuggled in to Dean’s chest, which felt firm and muscular and everything that Castiel had been hoping for. Dean kissed his hairline lazily, and Castiel’s chest thrummed as his heart rate spiked. If he had been asked at that moment what his own personal heaven looked like, he would have described this scene, barring Sam’s presence and bed. A small, darkened room, the faint smells of food lingering, and a sense of security, love, trust and belonging all radiating from the man who would welcome Castiel into his arms.

It felt too good to be true, that Dean was the one persevering now for their relationship. It gave Castiel hope that his feelings might be reciprocated. He watched as sleep came over Dean and his grip slackened as he drifted off to sleep. Castiel remained close to the hunter, his eyes raking over Dean’s features in the dim light that filtered through the curtains. At the strong jawline dusted with stubble and the faint lines appearing around Dean’s eyes, at the bump in Dean’s nose, which was slightly off-centre, and his full lips. Even without the scant light, Castiel knew Dean’s face so well from watching him so closely, but that didn’t stop him from seeking out the opportunity to do so up close.

Castiel spent the entire night laying in Dean’s arms, noticing that the hunter didn’t move around in his sleep the way he normally did. He decided it meant that Dean took comfort from him as well, and he snuggled closer to the hunter, watching as the room became lighter, the thin curtains doing little to remove the impact of the sun. Castiel heard Sam stir, and zapped himself across the room. He wasn’t sure where Dean stood on telling Sam about their relationship. He wasn’t sure where he stood on discussing the relationship with Sam either. Castiel had been avoiding the taller hunter, to try to minimalise Dean’s potential embarrassment.

Sam nodded his morning greeting as he sat up, and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

‘Good morning Sam,’ Castiel responded, as though Sam had spoken. Sam glanced at the alarm clock with puffy eyes, and rolled out of bed.

‘What’ve you been up to all night?’

_Watching your brother sleep, and falling even more in love with him._

‘I’ve been thinking.’ Castiel shrugged.

‘Hmm? About what?’

‘Angel stuff.’

Castiel was glad to have that excuse to use whenever he wanted. Neither Dean nor Sam ever really questioned him on his angelic agendas, and he was always careful to be vague if they ever tried. The truth was, he was rarely in contact with Heaven. He had no real reason to be, and it was dangerous for Castiel to try. Sam didn’t probe further, but prepped for his jogging session instead.

‘So, I’m going for my run, I’ll be back in an hour. In case Dean wakes up, okay?’

Castiel nodded, and waited until Sam had banged the door shut, and he heard footsteps pounding outside to remove his suit and crawl back into bed with Dean, who was now curled to one side. Castiel snuggled up to Dean’s back, revelling in the gentle warmth that radiated from the hunter, and he rested his head against Dean’s, stroking his arm slowly, occasionally kissing the hunter wherever he could reach. Castiel knew he wasn’t going to get the opportunity to greet the hunter in this way again, and he was trying to embrace the opportunity while it was in front of him. He felt Dean begin to stir, and pressed another brief kiss on the hunter’s shoulder.

‘Where’s Sam?’ Dean asked quietly, his voice clogged with sleep. Castiel was happy that the first words out of Dean’s mouth were not an admonition regarding the way he had woken. He felt a stab of hope that Dean was asking after his brother to be sure that they had some privacy. The angel pressed another gentle kiss onto Dean’s cheek before he answered.

‘Out on his early morning jog. I didn’t join you in your bed until he’d left about ten minutes ago.’

Dean shifted in the bed, turning to face Castiel, raising an arm and pulling the angel close to him as he did so. Castiel could barely fight the smile that erupted as he realised Dean was thinking the same way he was. Dean’s next words confirmed it.

‘I guess that gives us fifty minutes to fool around before he gets back.’

Castiel frowned slightly, wondering exactly what context Dean was applying to ‘fool around’, but he soon forgot it as Dean rolled onto him, pressing his heavy body close to Castiel’s, and he began to pepper Castiel’s face with kisses. Castiel laughed in a mixture of relief and joy, and he felt his body turn to jelly under the hunter’s. He traced his fingers down Dean’s side, loving the way it made Dean’s body jolt against his own, as Dean continued kissing every millimetre of Castiel’s face, every eyelash and inch of cheek and stubble blade was being give attention, and Castiel could feel his body reacting, embracing every second of Dean’s attentions.

‘This,’ Dean pressed a sloppy kiss to Castiel’s cheek, high up on the cheekbone, ‘was’ he caught the soft skin under Castiel’s eye, ‘the’ Dean moved towards Castiel’s forehead, ‘best’ he caught his lips on the tip of Castiel’s nose, ‘idea’ Dean’s lips skimmed up to an eyebrow, ‘you’ve’ Dean twisted around and nipped gently on Castiel’s ear lobe, and Castiel began to pant, ‘ever’ Dean licked down into a haphazard kiss on Castiel’s jawline, ‘had.’

Dean moved back up slightly, and kissed on Castiel’s upper lip, and Castiel kissed Dean’s lower one, already sliding his tongue into Dean’s mouth, biting at his lips. Dean responded with enthusiasm, shifting even closer to Castiel, twisting their legs together, grinding his hips and his early morning erection into the angel. Castiel felt his body shaking underneath Dean’s persistence, his own erection beginning to throb, and his fingers grazed further down Dean’s side. Castiel was beginning to lose track of his thoughts, and he clung on to Dean’s hips as they moved back and forth. Dean then surprised Castiel by pulling away slightly, ending their increasingly frantic kissing, though Castiel could still feel Dean’s warm breath on his face.

‘Do you wanna get naked?’ Dean whispered, looking into Castiel’s eyes. Castiel wasn’t sure what Dean was asking for, what he was intending by putting that notion between them, so he shook his head and kissed the hunter again, who was only too happy to respond, kissing Castiel with renewed enthusiasm and rocking against him once more. Castiel could feel Dean’s erection pressing down on him, and without really considering what he was doing, he slipped his hands into Dean’s boxers, and took hold of his penis. Dean stopped bucking to move his hips, never breaking their increasingly desperate kisses. Castiel started to realise what he’d done, and tried to work out what was going to happen now. Was Dean going to yell at him? Would he understand that Castiel had let his vessel take over for a moment? Dean interrupted his worried thoughts.

‘Cas, move your hands,’ his managed to whisper while still kissing Castiel. Castiel understood that Dean wasn’t impressed with Castiel’s actions, and immediately let go, moving his hands away from the hunter. Dean nibbled on Castiel’s lower lip.‘That’s not what I meant.’

There was a small pause. Castiel felt confused. What else could Dean have meant?

‘What did you mean?’ Castiel asked, his breathing still erratic. Dean smirked down at him, his face almost transformed as his hands skimmed down Castiel’s body slowly, leaving a trail of heat along his sides. Castiel stopped kissing Dean, concentrating on what Dean was doing, on the way his fingers seemed so lazy, yet knew exactly what he was doing, as he peeled Castiel’s underwear off. They stopped, and Dean whispered throatily,

‘Okay Cas, you’re going to do exactly what I do, okay?’

Castiel nodded slowly, feeling almost drunk on the effects of Dean’s affections. Dean’s fingers continued their lazy journey up to Castiel’s groin, and he wrapped both hands around Castiel, waiting for the angel to reciprocate. Castiel tried to copy Dean’s actions, brushing his hips and sliding the elastic of Dean’s underwear down, taking hold of Dean as well. There was a burning sensation in Castiel’s chest, and he wondered what Dean was up to, what he was planning.

‘This is what I did before,’ Castiel pointed out. Dean smiled lazily, his eyelids half-closed.

‘Mmm-hmm,’ and Dean began kissing and licking along Castiel’s jawline, as his hands started sliding up and down Castiel’s cock. Castiel started doing the same, thinking how strange it felt to have Dean’s hands on him, yet how much he wanted Dean to continue. And how strange Dean felt in his hands, warm, slightly wet, hairy, and softer than Castiel would have expected. Dean stopped kissing him, lifting his head up, and Castiel looked back, into his eyes, neither of their hands missing a beat. And Castiel felt a tightness in his chest, like he wanted to cry, though he wasn’t sure why he would want to. He wanted to tell Dean in that moment how he felt, how much Dean meant, how consuming his love was, but he didn’t want Dean to stop. He was scared that Dean wouldn’t want to know if he told him, that there would be no chance of any further dates, even with the memory wipes.

Dean’s hands changed direction, his fingers probing and rubbing, and Castiel tried to match the actions, enjoying the way Dean’s body reacted to his touch, the way he bucked and shivered and began kissing Castiel again, along his neck and collarbone, groaning incoherently in between and they both began humping, matching the rhythm of their hands. Castiel’s eyes were rolling back into his head, and for a few minutes he was lost in Dean’s hands, only just managing to copy everything Dean was doing.

And then something changed, which Castiel hadn’t been expecting. Dean had grunted loudly, and something warm and wet flowed over Castiel’s hand and onto his stomach as Dean collapsed onto him completely, feeling like a deadweight against Castiel’s vessel. And Dean’s hands had flown off of Castiel, which the angel immediately missed. There was an aching need in his penis, and Dean didn’t seem able to continue what he’d started. And Castiel wanted to see what would happen, to see if he would react in the same way. He moved his wet, sticky hands onto himself, and continued pumping himself, bucking into his hand movements the way they had been doing. Dean lifted his head slightly as he realised what Castiel was doing.

‘Sorry, Cas,’ he mumbled. Castiel was becoming breathless.

‘It’s okay, Dean. Help me,’ and he felt under the blankets for Dean’s hand, accidentally smearing Dean’s come along his arm before grabbing Dean’s hand and shoving it back on himself. Dean’s touch did more for Castiel than his own hands, and Dean began sucking on Castiel’s neck as he built his pace up.

And then it was all over, and Castiel felt like something was exploding, the same warm-and-wet sensation all over his hands, and himself, and the bed, and Dean. Castiel had groaned loudly too, feeling a release from the aching sensation that had been building up. They laid silently for several moments, as Castiel realised that his heart-rate was erratic, and that they were both still holding on to his body. He let go, winding his slippery, sticky fingers into Dean’s, moving their hands to the side of the bed, tugging Dean onto him further. Castiel was the first to break the silence this time.

‘Dean?’ Castiel’s voice was hesitant. Dean raised his head, a dopey expression on his face. ‘What did we just do?’

Dean smiled lazily, and kissed Castiel gently on his mouth.

‘I thought you wanted it.’

Castiel frowned, feeling confused. Had he wanted that? He wasn’t sure what he had wanted, except to be closer to Dean. Dean’s reactions had been unpredictable, and although Castiel had felt an overwhelming need to continue, he was wondering if he had enjoyed it.

‘Hey, Cas?’ Dean sounded conversational, like nothing major had occurred between them. He leaned on an elbow, looking down at Castiel with an expression Castiel would lose his grace for. It looked almost like Dean was as besotted as Castiel, in that moment. ‘Awkward question, but before Sam comes back, could you work your angel magic, clean this up? Sam’ll ask about it otherwise.’

‘Clean what up?’ Castiel felt perplexed, as Dean raised the two hands that were woven together, covered in semen. It took Castiel a moment to realise what Dean was really asking for. Was he feeling ashamed as well? Castiel couldn’t detect that emotion in Dean, though it was burning through his own vessel. They were still naked, their pants around their ankles, and Castiel couldn’t enjoy the sensation of Dean pressed against his vessel. ‘Oh, okay.’

All the evidence of what they’d just done disappeared, like it had never been. Dean’s skin no longer felt sticky and sweaty and slick, but soft and warm and dry. But Castiel couldn’t wash away the strange sense of guilt inside him, or the nagging feeling that with Dean, this was only the beginning. He felt the need to get some clarity with Dean over what could be coming up for them.

‘Dean? Please don’t laugh but I have to know. How do two men have sex?’

Dean burst into laughter anyway, his stomach slapping against Castiel’s, creating that buzzing sensation in his chest again. But Castiel was affronted, he’d been asking so that he could be more prepared than he was for the morning’s activities and Dean was treating it like some big joke. Did that mean sex with Dean was off the cards? But then Dean was pressing another gentle kiss to his lips, and Castiel sank back into utter confusion.

‘I’ll show you tonight.’ Dean growled, kissing Castiel again as the motel room door opened, and Sam stepped in, surveying the scene in front of him quickly. Dean bearing down on Castiel, their underwear falling out of the foot of the bed, the sheets rucked up along their bare legs to their knees. Neither Dean nor Castiel seemed aware of just how much they were exposing their relationship to Sam at that moment.

‘Ugh, guys, please. Get a room.’ He greeted them, averting his eyes to the ceiling.

‘We had one.’ Castiel informed Sam, barely paying him any attention before reaching up to Dean and kissing him in return. Sam stumbled across the room, still trying to avoid looking at his brother and the angel.

‘Yeah. Look, I’m going for a shower, can you guys stop that please? I mean, I’m happy for you and everything, but that is too damn weird.’

‘You’re too damn weird,’ Dean bit back, his lips and tongue bumping into Castiel’s mouth. They heard the bathroom door slam shut, and Dean raised his head, smiling down at Castiel with that unexpected dopey expression on his face. Castiel wanted to keep the image of Dean looking like that forever. ‘It’s fun messing with him.’

Castiel shook his head slowly, wishing he could feel as playful as Dean did. Clearly, Dean thought something good was happening between them. But he was feeling increasingly confused, and was starting to wish for some time to himself, just to consider what was going on, how their relationship was developing.

‘We’d better stop here, I don’t want to upset Sam.’ He eventually muttered, to which Dean rolled his eyes and pressed closer for another kiss, lowering his voice again as he responded.

‘We’ve got a little while before Sam comes out of the shower.’

‘I’ll get carried away,’ Castiel confessed. Because yes, he was confused and he wasn’t sure he had even liked what had just happened, but Dean just had to look at him and Castiel would agree to anything. And Castiel was well aware that the morning was just the tip of the iceberg. Dean’s next words were something that Castiel would ordinarily love to hear, but at that moment they were terrifying.

‘I don’t care.’

Castiel had to think fast, and in a moment of blind panic he flashed them both out of the bed, into their own clothes and made sure they were as far apart as they could be in that small, confining room. He watched as Dean looked around, bewildered, before he realised what happened, and glared at Castiel.

‘Dammit, Cas!’

‘Sorry, Dean. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ Castiel blurted, as though that would fix the almost suffocating feeling inside him. Before Dean could answer, the bathroom door swung open once more and Sam walked out, holding his hand over his eyes as though he was avoiding seeing anything untoward.

‘Are you guys done yet? We need to get going.’

‘It’s fine, Sam.’ Dean answered, beginning to pack his clothes, suddenly avoiding Castiel’s eye contact. Maybe Dean was ashamed, after all. Castiel watched as they both packed up their bags, pocketing their phones and handguns, until Sam looked up and smiled nervously.

‘Cas? Can you give us a hand?’

Dean left the room, leaving the door gaping open as he stomped away down the stairs. Sam looked at Castiel with a pitying expression.

‘He’s mad at me, isn’t he?’

Castiel blinked back, surprised that Sam would apply Dean’s bad mood to his actions. Castiel was grateful for Sam’s interruptions. He needed to re-evaluate.

‘I’m sure he’s not, Sam.’

‘Well, he was in a good mood when he was in bed with you.’

Castiel looked away rather than answer, pretending to scan the room for anything that might have been left behind.  
‘Is that everything packed?’ he asked instead. Sam clapped a hand on his shoulder.

‘You don’t have to hide it from me you know, Castiel. I can see what’s going on with you and Dean. Just, try and behave a little bit when I’m in the same room, is that cool?’

‘We should go and find Dean. I think he wants to go.’

Sam squeezed Castiel’s shoulder gently, before leaving the room, and Castiel took a few moments for himself, looking at the bed that so recently, Dean had broadened his world on. He knew that Sam would be encouraging Dean to talk downstairs, trying to brighten Dean’s suddenly sour mood, and Castiel wanted to give them the time to do that, as well as take some time for himself. But he didn’t want to take too long and upset Dean further, either. He resolved to going to find them and letting them know he was taking some time for himself. He’d reuse the angel excuse if he had to.

He found them outside of the Impala, talking about Sam’s date from the previous night. Castiel naturally drifted over to Dean, brushing close beside him. Dean curled his fingers back around Castiel’s, stepping even closer, with no commentary from Sam. Castiel couldn’t tell if that was a good thing, or whether they were both distracted from their conversation.

‘It was nearly ten. Besides, her relationship with her brother was creepy. There’s a reason why our research showed they were married.’

‘Eww.’

Sam nodded, as Castiel tried to understand what Sam could possibly be implying about his date.

‘Exactly. But come on, we need to find a new case. If you can stop thinking about each other naked for five minutes?’

Castiel gave Dean’s fingers a squeeze, and then let go, knowing he would want to sit behind the driving wheel, and Dean bent close, his breath tickling Castiel’s ear.

‘It’s every five seconds, not every five minutes.’

Castiel swallowed as Dean climbed nonchalantly into the car, like he hadn’t said anything outrageous. Castiel needed all his resolve to fight the urge to climb in the car, on Dean’s lap, and explore his mouth all over again.

‘I’ll come and find you later. I have things I need to do.’

‘What things?’ Sam asked. Castiel had a momentary wish that Sam would butt his nose out. His response was abrupt.

‘Things that concern my family. I’ll see you soon.’

And before Castiel could doubt himself, or Dean worry about onlookers, he pressed a gentle kiss onto Dean’s face, and flashed out, into the bunker, and Dean’s bedroom.

He hadn’t been lying when he said it concerned his family. Castiel was beginning to wonder if the depravity he was experiencing with Dean was going to be the final nail in his coffin, the one thing that would cut him off from Heaven completely, and utterly. His brothers and sisters were fine with Castiel being in love with Dean, especially as for the most part, it hadn’t been reciprocated, but now that it was, would sex with a human - even if it was Dean - mean that he had no chance of ever being redeemed?

And for Castiel, Dean and Sam were another kind of family. Like when humans got married and left their parents to become parents themselves, to start their own offshoot of the bigger family. Dean was the man he wanted as his partner for life, and Sam was his slightly irritating brother-in-law, in Castiel’s mind at least. Would Castiel’s chosen family compromise his actual family?

He sat on Dean’s bed, legs splayed out in front of him, debating over and over in his head what to do. And then he decided that maybe he needed to educate himself, because Dean had been vague about what would happen between them if they continued a physical relationship. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, and began searching in Sam’s beloved internet for whatever facts and diagrams he could find about what they had done.

*

Hours later, Castiel’s head was full of facts, films and stories he’d come across online. He now had a name for what he and Dean had done that morning, and a vague knowledge of what would happen if they pursued a physical relationship. Castiel didn’t understand it much at all. He was also convinced, as he had increasingly been through his research, that his father would never approve of Castiel being intimate in that way with Dean. And though he couldn’t erase what he’d done, or the guilt that came from it, he could still erase Dean’s memory of it, to stop their relationship developing too fast. Castiel should have erased the day before as well. He would do it that night, when he listened for Sam and Dean and came to the place they were staying. At least by repeating their first dates over and over, Dean wouldn’t push anything too far.

Eventually, he heard voices in the bunker, and realised that for once, Dean had come to him. Castiel could make out their conversation, something about strikes and no game, and after a couple of minutes, Dean came into the room, pausing when he saw the angel on his bed. And then he was striding across the room, kicking his boots off, climbing onto the bed beside Castiel, kneeling as he wrapped his arms around the angel and kissed him enthusiastically. Castiel’s head was too full of his research to respond properly, and he pushed Dean away, keeping the hunter at arms length.

‘What, are you off me again?’ Dean’s tone was good-natured, but Castiel knew that he was annoyed by the lack of enthusiasm. Instead, he brought their foreheads together, as though they could read each others thoughts that way.

‘No, Dean. Of course not. But I want us to slow down. You said you were happy to wait for Cassie and Lisa. Can you wait for me?’

‘Of course, Cas. We can still make out though, right?’ Dean sounded both surprised and hopeful. He didn’t even question the implication that Castiel was likening himself to Dean’s more successful relationships. And as much as Castiel was hoping for Dean to be more open-minded about the possibility of the two of them together, he felt more confused than ever, even as he nodded. Did that mean he could stop erasing Dean’s memory? Did he have everything he wanted? Dean seemed to be reading Castiel’s sense of defeat correctly, because his tone softened. ‘How about we do something else?’

‘Dean-‘

‘No, trust me, Cas. Sit forward a little and close your eyes.’

Castiel regarded Dean with some suspicion, before he shifted forward, off of the pillows, and closed his eyes, giving his trust over completely to Dean. And then he felt the soft touch of Dean’s weathered fingers on his face, barely touching the skin, gliding along all the contours set by Castiel’s features. They swept around onto his back, their speed changing. Sometimes he used only one finger, sometimes all five, sometimes close together and sometimes splayed out. But everywhere Dean touched left a trail of  
heat, and shook Castiel to his core. He wished Dean was better at explaining himself, because to Castiel, these were the tender touches of love, and he craved that love from Dean so much.

There was a pause, and Castiel almost begged for Dean to continue, but then he heard the hunter moving, felt the bed dip as he shifted to sit behind the angel, his legs splayed out around Castiel’s, their thighs touching, Dean’s groin pressed into Castiel’s butt, and Dean continued to trace across Castiel’s back, and up his neck. Time seemed to stand still, and all the existed was Dean’s touch, as Dean’s fingers gently massaged the sensitive skin under Castiel’s jaw, and Castiel fell back against him, completely relaxed.

‘This feels wonderful, Dean,’ Castiel’s voice had a dreamy quality to it. Surely, with an innocent-yet-intimate touch like that, it would make up for the earlier mutual masturbation? Castiel even hated the term. He forced it from his mind, too involved with the way Dean was caressing him to worry about their morning activities.

‘Good, it’s meant to,’ Dean pressed a kiss to Castiel’s temple.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

‘Sure.’ Dean finally stopped tickling along Castiel’s throat, and wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders instead, pressing close to Castiel. When Dean was like this, how could anyone not love him? Castiel was completely besotted.

‘I meant, for agreeing to give us a try, for saying you’ll be patient with me, for everything.’

Dean leaned closer, leaning his chin against Castiel’s shoulder.

‘Yeah, well. Hey, you wanna go do something? I mean, we haven’t even had a date yet.’

Castiel jerked forward, his eyes blinking open, all thoughts of bliss removed for a moment. They hadn’t technically had a date in those last forty-eight hours, Dean was correct. They were closer than ever, and Dean seemed more open to a relationship than ever before, but it was true, they had not yet had a date, in Dean’s eyes anyway. Maybe he should have a new plan, and keep up the intimacy until Dean just admitted that Castiel was hid boyfriend, and then Castiel would never have to worry again? He leaned back into the hunter once more, snuggling close, enjoying the scent of Dean’s aftershave and the heavy warmth of his arms.  
‘I’m happy here right now, Dean. Just sitting here with you.’


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel felt a heavy burden after wiping Dean’s memory of the past two days. Though he had convinced himself that it was the right thing to do, the best way to save his position in Heaven and Dean’s soul, it didn’t mean he was happy about it. He could still sense the ghost of Dean’s fingers on his skin, tracing a pattern through Castiel’s shirt. He’d felt them all night.

Castiel watched over Dean throughout the night again, wishing he could just lay with Dean, cuddling close and brushing kisses over Dean’s skin while Dean rested. But Castiel knew he couldn’t do that, not when Dean was unaware of their previous dates. Instead, Castiel stood in the corner of the room, watching as Dean shifted restlessly in the bed, tangling the sheets around his legs and exposing his firm chest throughout the night. Castiel was sure to leave the room before Dean woke up, to avoid any awkward questions from the hunter. He walked the hallways of the bunker aimlessly instead, replaying memories of the past few days in his head, of every kiss, every touch, and the look in Dean’s eyes throughout. He was almost convinced that Dean felt the same way, but Dean hadn’t said anything to indicate that he did.

Eventually, Castiel wandered into the kitchen, where Dean and Sam were now both awake, coffee cups half used on the table and a strange tension emanating between them. Dean was giving Sam a hard stare, and Sam’s eyes flickered to Castiel, his brow lowering slightly before he looked back at Dean.

‘Well, anyway. We should go,’ Sam addressed Dean. Dean rolled his eyes, and slurped at his coffee.

‘Sure, I’ll prove you wrong. Cas? Sam thinks we should go to a carnival that’s happening “tonight”, want to come?’

Dean had raised his hand and flicked two fingers up and down as he said the word “tonight”, his voice oozing sarcasm. Castiel missed the significance of Dean’s irritation, and instead focused on the fact that Dean was asking him out. Dean _was_ asking him out, wasn’t he?

‘That sounds wonderful, Dean.’

Dean looked up at the angel, and Castiel smiled back. Sam coughed, and stood up.

‘I’m going to scan online for any more cases. Maybe tomorrow we can get back to work?’

Sam left the room, and Castiel took his vacated seat, across from Dean. Dean was staring at the newspaper Sam had left on the table.

‘Is everything okay, Dean?’

‘Mmm, yeah, sure. Sam’s full of shit, that’s all.’

Castiel wanted Dean to continue talking, to open up to Castiel on what Sam had done to irritate him this time, but he knew he had to tread carefully. They were back to the beginning, after all, and Dean wasn’t going to be as open with him as Castiel would have wanted.

‘So, this carnival visit, is this going to be our date?’

Dean snorted with brief laughter, and finally made real eye contact with Castiel.

‘Sam’ll be there. And there won’t be a carnival.’

Dean sounded so sure as he spoke, and Castiel slumped in the seat. Why was this becoming so hard to do? Dating Dean was meant to be easy.

‘Hey, Cas, it’ll be okay. We’ll do something tomorrow, maybe? Or how about this, if Sam isn’t being the biggest dick on the planet right now, and there is a carnival? We try and ditch him on a ride and make it our date.’

‘Are you sure?’ Castiel tried to make it sound as though he wasn’t bothered.

‘Cas, I wasn’t … this isn’t about us dating, okay? I don’t think the carnival really exists. If I’m wrong,’ he frowned, like the concept was impossible, ‘then we’ll make it about us. It’s just Sam being Sam. It’s not you.’

Dean reached across the table, taking Castiel’s hand and rubbing his thumb across Castiel’s knuckles, the dry skin of his fingertips scratching slightly at Castiel’s unblemished hands. Castiel felt reassured, not by Dean’s words but by his touch. All he wanted was to walk around the table, slide onto Dean’s lap and melt into him the way they had been doing the last couple of days. He caught Dean’s eye again, and Dean swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Could Dean sense the way Castiel was feeling?

‘Hey, so um, we’ll probably head out in a couple of hours,’ Dean sounded flustered. He opened his mouth to continue speaking, but after opening and closing his mouth a few times, it became clear that he wasn’t going to finish his thought. Castiel squeezed Dean’s fingers gently, forcing himself not to crawl across the table to get to Dean. How could he look even more enticing when he was so uncomfortable? He grabbed his coffee instead, draining the mug and standing, letting go of Castiel’s hand to take his and Sam’s mugs to the sink, washing up. Castiel found his attention drawn to Dean’s ass, at the taut muscles and the smooth curves, and he looked without shame as Dean cleaned up. When Dean turned around, drying his hands on a dish towel, Castiel took a moment to raise his eyes up to Dean’s face. Dean cocked an eyebrow, and put the dish towel to the side of the sink.

‘Cas, last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid,’ Dean was teasing, Castiel guessed. It wasn’t the first time Dean had said something like that to him, although this time it was probably more accurate. Dean crossed the room again, stopping and stooping down to whisper in Castiel’s ear. ‘How about when we see that the carnival’s a figment of Sam’s imagination we ditch him anyway and have that date?’

Castiel closed his eyes, breathing in Dean’s scent, his heart thudding in his chest, his entire body almost humming from the increased heart rate.

‘Is that what you want, Dean?’

Dean didn’t say anything back, his response was to press his lips against Castiel’s forehead, his fingertips catching at Castiel’s face, holding him gently as Dean’s lips travelled down the angel’s face. Castiel’s chest felt ready to burst. This was what he wanted, so much, to feel that Dean cared as much as he did.

‘Does that answer your question?’ Dean asked after brushing his lips against Castiel’s mouth. Castiel was shaking with desire, and he reached up, clinging onto Dean’s muscular shoulders, pulling him back down, crashing their mouths together. Dean kissed back with enthusiasm, as though his bad mood was lifting just from his contact with Castiel. Was that possible? Could Castiel really have influenced Dean’s mood that much? Dean sank onto Castiel, straddling him in the chair, his groin pushing into Castiel, his entire body warm against the angel, who embraced Dean’s weight upon him. And Castiel pulled at Dean’s shoulders, pulling him closer so that they were pressed tightly against each other. Dean groaned, and held the back of Castiel’s head firmly, tilting it back slightly so he could make the kiss deeper, his tongue flicking around Castiel’s mouth in earnest. Castiel responded with equal enthusiasm, smiling into the kiss.

They didn’t hear Sam walk back into the room, sigh, and cross the room to the sink. They only heard him as he banged a pot down, the metallic ring echoing around the room. Dean pulled away from Castiel to shoot an annoyed glare at his brother.

‘Come on, Dean. The carnival’s a few hours away.’ Sam’s eyes flickered to Castiel, and then back to his brother. ‘Maybe lend Cas some clothes. Who wears a suit and a trench coat to a carnival?’

Sam left the room again, and Dean peeled himself off of Castiel reluctantly, Castiel’s body tingling with cold wherever they had made contact.

‘He’s a bitch, but he has a point. We’ll finish this off later, okay?’ he ran a finger across Castiel’s lips, and Castiel nodded silently. Dean smirked, and grabbed Castiel’s tie, tugging him off of the chair, out of the kitchen and into his bedroom. He rummaged through his closet, and pulled out some jeans and a loose-fitting top, passing them to Castiel and planting another kiss on his mouth.

‘Get dressed, we’re going soon. I think I have some sneakers somewhere you can use as well.’ He looked at Castiel and sighed. ‘Don’t give me that look.’

He left the room, and Castiel clutched Dean’s clothes, wondering what look he had been giving Dean and why he didn’t seem to want it when everything seemed to be going so well. If Castiel didn’t know any better, he’d be convinced that he hadn’t managed to remove Dean’s memories at all. He changed into Dean’s clothes swiftly, with a hopeful feeling brewing in his chest as he breathed in Dean’s scent as it clung to the clothes.

*

The drive to the temporary fairground was long and uncomfortable. Castiel was made to sit in the back, and he could sense the angry tension between the Winchesters. He had no idea what they were arguing about this time, and had no desire to know past how it affected Dean. Surely, Sam was in the wrong, with whatever situation had arisen? And surely Dean would let him take some of the tension away by progressing with their physical relationship?

Dean finally turned into a field that had been converted into a temporary car park, the carnival already in full swing in the adjoining field. Sam gestured towards the Ferris wheel in the distance.

‘Carnival.’

Dean shot his brother an annoyed glance, and climbed out of the car, knocking on the back window to signal that Castiel should come out. He did so slowly, as Sam strode on ahead.

‘Is everything okay, Dean?’ Castiel asked quietly.

‘Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come on, I wanna feed you up on carny food and then watch you puke on the Helter Skelter.’

Castiel frowned at the unromantic nature of Dean’s proposition.

‘I thought this was a date?’

Dean smiled, and threw his arm around Castiel’s shoulders.

‘Sure babe, this can be our date.’

Castiel relaxed into Dean’s side, and allowed Dean to tug him up to the entrance gates, where Sam was waiting impatiently. Sam rolled his eyes as he saw his brother and the angel strolling along together.

‘I’ve paid already,’ Sam grunted, and walked inside the gates without looking back. Dean’s hand slid back from Castiel’s shoulders, down his arm, until he was gripping Castiel’s fingers, pulling him through the gate too. They saw Sam walking away, towards the Dodgems, and Dean rolled his eyes before nodding to the Tilt-A-Whirl.

‘Let him cool down, we’ll go have some fun. Come on.’ He gave Castiel a swift kiss on the cheek, and tugged him along to the first ride, where they were strapped in to the same car together, knees bumping on the safety bar.

‘Dean? Are we about to get tortured?’ Castiel asked in a low voice, eyeing the restraints apprehensively. Dean laughed, as a bell sounded from the centre of the ride, signalling that it was about to start.

‘Some would say that. It’s going to be fun, Cas. Here we go.’

The car began to move, twisting around as it ran along the track, picking up speed as the music began blaring out, some old rock tune that Castiel had heard a thousand times in the Impala. Castiel wasn’t sure if he was enjoying the experience, but Dean was whooping, and laughing as the car rocked sharply and sent him sliding into Castiel. He put an arm around Castiel as they were thrown the other way, Castiel landing into Dean’s firm chest. Castiel decided he liked the ride, if it was going to continually bring them together.

The ride stopped before Castiel was ready, and as the car slowed to a halt, Dean shifted away from him slightly, pushing the safety bar off and sliding off the seat, turning around and grinning at Castiel. Castiel stared back at him, marvelling at how much younger Dean looked when he smiled, how relaxed he seemed despite the obvious tension with Sam earlier. Castiel followed Dean out of the car, and off of the ride, watching him as Dean took his hand and scanned around the area for the next activity.

‘Wanna go in the haunted house?’ Dean laughed suddenly. ‘See if it’ll freak us out.’

‘They have a house inhabited by ghosts? Do they know a failed Reaper?’

Dean shook his head in amusement at Castiel’s questions, pulling closer to him so they were standing chest-to-chest.

‘Cas, it’s a tacky carny ride. But it’s dark and a great place to make out. Especially when you get scared.’

‘I’ve been fighting demons since your species developed, Dean, I won’t be scared.’

‘It’s tacky as hell, of course you would be,’ Dean pulled away slightly, winking and threading his way through the crowds, Castiel hurrying to keep up, eventually grabbing the back pocket of Dean’s jeans to ensure they stayed together. When Dean felt the tug, he slowed down, reaching a hand behind him to grab at Castiel’s arm, and when he managed to grab it, he slid Castiel’s hand firmly into his back pocket. Castiel was glad that Dean was still looking for the haunted house, so he couldn’t see Castiel’s blush. He fought the urge to sink his fingertips into Dean, to see how firm he was under the worn denim wrapping, as Dean stopped walking, and half-turned to Castiel. ‘Here we go. You’re going to have to let go of my butt for the ride.’

Castiel hastily removed his hand from Dean’s back pocket, feeling scolded somehow. All the signs he had been reading so far from Dean indicated that Dean wanted him as well. He felt a burning sensation in his gut, even as Dean reached for his arm and tugged him into a rickety old cart, lowering the safety bar over them once again, and winding an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. The cart gave a jerk, and they slowly entered the dim house, Castiel looking all around at the fake cobwebs and poorly lit skeletons.

‘I see what you mean about the tack,’ Castiel said quietly, turning to look at Dean, who seemed to be staring at him. Castiel could only tell by the way Dean’s eyes reflected the light on the exhibitions. A mummy “fell” out of its sarcophagus, and Dean leaned over and kissed Castiel again, his hand gripping onto Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel lost himself in Dean’s kisses, trying to manoeuvre around the safety bar in order to get closer to the hunter. Dean used the hand on Castiel’s shoulder to pull him as close as he could, his kisses slightly sloppy as he searched through the gloom for Castiel. Castiel couldn’t make himself care, he was revelling in Dean’s affection, trying to remember every sensation connected with Dean’s lips and teeth and tongue, his firm grip, his warm torso, everything that made Castiel feel desired. If, at that moment Dean had pushed for more, Castiel would have gone willingly, his position in Heaven be damned. Literally.

But they were suddenly flooded with light and Dean pulled away, blinking around as Castiel sighed in frustration. The ride operator lifted the safety bar and Castiel stood up on weakened legs, leaving the cart and letting Dean out as well. Dean slid an arm around Castiel’s waist, giving him a tiny kiss on his neck. Castiel shivered as they fell into step, walking around the carnival.

‘So did you wanna go on another ride? Find Sammy? What do you wanna do?’ Dean asked after a couple of moments. Castiel knew his answer would not go well with Dean, and tried to think of something he could say other than _go back to the bunker and fall into you_. He saw a game, with guns and cork bullets, and nodded over to the stand.

‘How about that?’

Dean looked as Castiel pointed, and gave a soft snort of laughter.

‘Want me to win you the big teddy?’

Castiel didn’t comprehend what Dean was referring to at first, and then he noticed the garland of stuffed toys across the top of the stand. Dean moved forward and paid the carny for a round of shots, and Castiel stood back to watch as Dean raised the gun, his stance solid yet comfortable, and he shot at the milk bottles arranged on the back wall. As he did, someone sidled up to Castiel, and whispered in his ear, her voice lilting and almost melodic, a dreamy quality hiding the danger within.

‘Well, well, well, Clarence. Scoring with a Winchester? I guess it was only a matter of time.’

Castiel looked down at the blonde demon beside him, who raised her chin as she raised her eyebrows, almost challenging him in her amused way.

‘It’s none of your business, Meg.’

‘I’ve been watching you since you got here, Clarence. You’re all over him. It’s almost pathetic, the way you keep almost begging him for some kind of affection.’

‘It’s none of your business, Meg.’ He reaffirmed, trying to imitate Dean’s annoyed tones.

‘Please, Clarence, I want to help. Give Dean the chance to work out exactly what he’s lucked into. Don’t you want that? Winchester wanting you back just as much as you want him?’

Castiel didn’t want to answer, but Meg had got it perfectly right. Of course he wanted that.

‘So, what do I do?’

Meg smirked.

‘You let him see how desirable you are. Give him competition, make him work for the prize.’

Castiel frowned.

‘And how do I do that?’ He asked, still not fully understanding the picture that Meg was painting. Meg laughed, and reached up for him, pulling him down to kiss him. Castiel’s sense of reasoning diminished completely, and all that percolated through his brain was that kissing Meg was very different to kissing Dean. Meg’s height gave Castiel an odd ache in his neck as he bent down. Her mouth was softer, her skin was smoother, she had no stubble to scratch against Castiel’s face. Her hold on him wasn’t as constricting as Dean’s, and Castiel missed all these elements that stood out. He wanted to be pressed against Dean, their connection rough and hot and full of need.

Castiel pulled away, disgusted with himself for letting Meg talk him into making out right behind Dean, and he looked around, hoping the hunter hadn’t seen anything. But Dean was gone, and they were surrounded by crowds of humans who were all enjoying themselves, ignorant of the angel and demon in their midst.

‘Castiel, the point was that he saw-‘

‘Be quiet and get out of my sight.’ Castiel snapped, pushing through the crowds and away from Meg to try to find Dean. He had to find Dean, to let him know that it was all Meg, the entire kiss came from Meg, and Castiel was so far removed from interested. He pushed through the swarms of humans, feeling increasingly desperate. Where could Dean have gone? Was he that angry when he saw Meg and Castiel together?

*

Castiel never managed to find Dean at the carnival. If Dean wanted to be hidden, then he would remain hidden. Eventually, feeling crushed, Castiel returned to the bunker, invisible. The Winchesters had already arrived back, and gone to their separate rooms. Castiel ventured into Dean’s room, still hidden, and watched as Dean drank a beer as he watched Dr Sexy, MD on the television set attached to the wall. Beside him was a stuffed toy, not one of the huge ones that he’d promised Castiel, but it was still a soft toy from the stand. Castiel felt a strange tightness in his chest, and he wanted to appear, to talk to Dean about everything that happened, to explain about Meg. But he didn’t want to argue with Dean, or lose him completely. Dean finished his beer, and bunkered down on the bed, his back to the stuffed bear. Castiel waited until he was sure that Dean was asleep, and then he took the stuffed toy, pressed his fingers to Dean’s forehead to wipe his memory, and disappeared with the toy, hiding it in a remote part of the bunker that Dean and Sam were yet to discover. He knew it was deceitful, but he wanted to treasure the trinket that Dean had won for him without any awkward questions. Explaining to Dean why there was a soft toy in his room would have been awkward, and potentially led to complete heartache. At least, Castiel tried to reassure himself, tomorrow would be another day to try at a relationship with Dean.


	8. Chapter 8

Castiel had spent the entire night with the soft toy Dean had won for him, sitting in the undiscovered room and stroking its rough fur as he held it close. He felt guilty, a deep burn right in the pit of his stomach, and no amount of altering Dean’s memory was going to help remove it. More than anything, he wanted to explain to Dean, to give his side to the situation and know that Dean had forgiven him. He genuinely hadn’t known what Meg’s intentions were. He wouldn’t have responded if he’d known that she wanted to kiss him. He wanted Dean.

Castiel was aware when morning came, and he knew that Sam would be getting up soon, going for a run and then making coffee, and not long after that, Dean would surface and Castiel would have to figure out what to do. He’d been trying all night and hadn’t made any progress. He wondered if making some grand gesture would go some way to removing some of the guilt, or if it would seem stupid, because Dean didn’t know what had happened. He hugged the stuffed rabbit closer, his mind reeling with the memories of the day before. The good ones, like Dean insisting on walking with their arms around each other, as though he were showing Castiel off to the world. The way Dean looked at him on the ghost train ride, just before he began kissing Castiel. The way they were connecting in the bunker kitchen, before they went to that damn carnival. And all Dean’s kisses, the sloppy, needy ones. The charged, passionate ones. The affectionate little ones when they were in public. Castiel wanted to believe that the Dean he saw yesterday was the Dean he deserved, the one who seemed to love him back. Castiel wanted to believe that what Meg said was wrong, that it wasn’t a case that Castiel was all over a disinterested Dean. But now, along with the guilt, he had his doubts. He didn’t know what to do, how to go forward. Even though Dean wouldn’t remember, Castiel felt that maybe he had lost him for good.

Castiel dwelled for most of the morning in that sparse room, still holding the toy that smelled both of Dean, that leather-whiskey-earthy smell, and another more pungent odour. He had no idea what he was going to do, how he was going to handle seeing Dean, and having it confirmed that he and Dean were over. He wouldn’t be able to face that. But he knew Dean wouldn’t want to go too long without seeing him either, whether they were still a couple or not. Eventually, he plucked up the courage to go and see Dean, trying to calm down, to not over-react. He found Dean with Sam in the main room, the atmosphere charged once again as they squared up to each other. Castiel didn’t understand why Sam and Dean were suddenly at each others throats the last few days, and he was unsure what he could say to diffuse the situation. He would most like to kiss Dean’s full pink lips, and distract him that way, but it didn’t seem like a wise move while they were glaring at each other.

‘Maybe, Sam, the problem is you, huh? You think on that?’ Dean growled. Castiel’s head turned between the brothers, flicking back and forth.

‘Can I not just be concerned for you? Dean, it’s been like, six days of the same thing!’

‘How about you grow a pair?’ Dean spat, and turned on his heels, calling back as he left the room. ‘I’m researching the hell out of djinn!’

Sam deflated into a chair, and Castiel made to follow Dean.

‘Cas?’ Sam’s voice was softer, more weary, and Castiel knew that he couldn’t just ignore Sam for Dean right then.

‘Yes, Sam?’

‘Is he okay with you? I mean, is he forgetting stuff with you? You’re together so much these days, I figured you might have noticed something too.’

Castiel hesitated, not sure how to respond to Sam. Cas was counting on Dean not to remember a thing.

‘To be honest, Sam,’ Castiel spoke slowly. ‘Our relationship isn’t built on recording the minutae of the day. We discuss other things, or it’s physical,’ he coughed, though he had no need to, and could feel his cheeks burning. Sam looked away, embarrassed himself for having to hear about that end of their relationship.

‘Yeah, I walked in on you both naked the other day. And yesterday when you were practically having sex in the chair. I know.’ Sam sighed, and leaned across the table, looking at Castiel earnestly. ‘Look, I don’t really … I’m glad you make each other happy, I am. He needs it, and I’ve known for a while that you and he … I’m still worried about him, okay? Can you try and talk to him? He won’t shout you down the way he’s doing with me.’

Castiel nodded, still not making eye contact with Sam.

‘I can try, Sam. I can’t promise more than that.’

‘Good. Good. Okay, well, I’m going to look for some more potential cases, so Dean and I can head out when he gets over it. If you two can leave each other alone that long.’

Castiel nodded, unsure of how else he was supposed to act, and walked out of the room, assuming that Dean would be in his bedroom. But when Castiel stuck his head into the room, around the door, he found it empty. He walked back through the bunker, and found Dean in a room full of the Men of Letter’s records, sitting at a desk and hunched over a stack of paperwork, concentrating hard on the text. Castiel stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, just watching in admiration as Dean removed a hand from under his chin to turn over a piece of paper.

‘Cas, are you in or out?’ He asked, not even looking up to check who was loitering at the door. Cas felt some of the weight in the pit of his stomach lifting, just from Dean recognising it was him. He stepped into the room, and headed to Dean’s table, sitting opposite him and looking intently at the hunter. ‘While you’re here, you mind helping me? Sam’s been acting strange, I think he got messed up by the djinn we killed yesterday. I need to find whatever records the Men of Letters have on djinn, so I can help him. Okay?’

So it wasn’t the conversation that Castiel thought they would be having, at least it was civil. Dean’s anger seemed to be directed only at Sam, and Castiel knew it was wrong but he was glad that Dean wasn’t angry at him and he didn’t care if Sam got the full brunt of Dean’s anger.

‘Dean? Can I talk to you about something?’ Castiel asked, emboldened by the fact that Dean seemed okay with him. Dean grunted, and Castiel took the grunt to signal Dean’s consent. ‘I kissed Meg. Well, she kissed me, but I didn’t exactly push her off. I’m sorry, Dean.’

Dean looked up from the page he was reading, and then put it down on the table gently.

‘Why’re you sorry?’

‘Well, because you and I- the whole dating thing-‘

Dean looked back at Castiel with a blank expression, and then shrugged.

‘Did you want to kiss her?’

‘No, of course not! You know how I feel about you.’

Dean didn’t react the way Castiel had anticipated, with a quirk of an eyebrow and a small smirk playing at his lips. Instead, he looked down at the papers, ready to continue his work.

‘It’s no big deal then, is it? It happened, it’s over, we can move on. Can I concentrate now? We’ll talk later.’

Castiel understood the dismissal, but he was still hurt by it. He wanted to reach over and take one of Dean’s hands, threading their fingers together and falling into a comfortable silence with that tenuous connection while Dean did his work. He knew Dean wasn’t in the mood at that moment for any kind of contact, so he used his normal bluff.

‘That’s fine. I have things to do in Heaven. I’ll see you later?’

Dean didn’t even look up, and Castiel barely heard his ‘mm-hmm’. Castiel zapped himself out and found himself in the Australian outback, surrounded by a deep red desert. He collapsed onto the floor, crossing his legs and surveying the flat, sparse surroundings. He knew Dean didn’t mean anything harsh, he wasn’t trying to upset Castiel, but Castiel felt it anyway. Why did he not react more to the news that Meg had kissed him? Why wasn’t Dean angry? He seemed so emotionless, and for Castiel, that was worse than Dean yelling. Castiel was taking it personally.

*

Hours in the heat passed, before Castiel heard Dean’s prayer. It was a painful echo of their last fight, when Castiel had spent the day in Nepal resolving to break up with Dean. This situation was more confusing, as was the tone of Dean’s prayer. His voice was flatter than normal, and he sounded tired.

‘Cas? I know you’re busy, but I’d really like to see you. When you can make it, you know? I’m going for a shower now, but I’ll wait up for you after that. It’s been weird, not having you around today.’

Castiel stood up, cleaned himself of sand, and zapped straight back into the bunker, into Dean’s room. It was vacant, and the door was ajar. Castiel could hear the shower running down the hall. He tried not to dwell too long on the mental image of Dean naked under the spray, the droplets running down his firm chest and sculpted abs, defining Dean’s muscles. Castiel played with the knot in his tie nervously. What exactly was Dean expecting now?

The noise of the shower shut off, and Castiel could hear the soft footfalls of Dean’s approach. Dean walked in, towel slung around his waist, and flung himself down on the bed, spotting Castiel as he rolled over, the towel barely staying in place. Castiel’s eyes were firmly on the towel.

‘Hey, you came pretty quickly.’ Dean sounded surprised, but happy.

‘Well, you asked me to.’

Dean nodded, which Castiel only caught in his periphery vision.

‘I know, but I know you were busy. Hey, shut the door, make yourself comfortable.’

Castiel flicked his fingers and the door closed, but he remained standing. Dean smirked, adjusting the towel, and beckoned Castiel closer. He didn’t move, and Dean rolled his eyes.

‘Cas, get on the bed with me.’

Castiel took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly, and then he removed his trench coat, his eyes locked on Dean’s. Dean cocked an eyebrow, his smirk growing into a genuine smile, and Castiel clumsily removed the rest of his clothes, leaving his boxers on before he crawled onto the bed, next to Dean. They lay side by side for a moment, not touching, not speaking.

‘This is awkward,’ Dean said eventually.

‘You wanted me to join you on your bed, I have done.’ Castiel began to object, and Dean sniggered.

‘That’s not what I meant, Cas. Come here,’ Dean’s fingers skated over Castiel’s skin, until he found his wrist, tugging at it gently. Castiel shifted along the mattress, until he was laying next to Dean, leaning over him slightly. Dean kept hold of his wrist, tucking his other hand behind his head and smiling lazily at the angel. Castiel propped himself up, staring wide-eyed at Dean. Their chests were pressed together lightly, and Castiel wanted to shiver at the feel of Dean’s shower-softened skin against his own. Dean began stroking his hand up from Castiel’s wrist, along his forearm, and stalling just above his elbow. Castiel took his cue from Dean, and rested a hand lightly on Dean’s face, his fingers exploring Dean’s jawline as they stroked the soft skin. He could feel where Dean had shaved, the shortened bristles catching only slightly on the pads of his fingers. He leaned closer, looking at the light brown hairs dotted along Dean’s face, the pale freckles that coated Dean’s cheek, aware that Dean was watching him.

Castiel was avoiding the eye contact, just for a while. He knew that as soon as he looked at Dean, as soon as they made that connection, that Dean would raise his head, just slightly, catching Castiel’s mouth in his own, and then things would turn frantic, because they would be far too immersed in each other to think. Castiel just wanted to savour their small connection while it was innocent.

‘That feels nice,’ Dean said quietly, and Castiel knew Dean was closing his eyes. Castiel took the chance to glance up Dean’s face, and the way that Dean’s long lashes lay lightly against his tanned skin. His fingers traced the contours of Dean’s face, around his eyes, over his nose, along his cheekbones and his eyebrows. Dean sighed, his lips parting minutely, and Castiel began tracing the outline of his lips too. Dean’s hand crept up along Castiel’s arm, up past his shoulder, and he began rubbing his fingers gently on the soft skin behind Castiel’s ear, his eyes flickering open as he did. There was a strange moment where they just looked at each other, before Castiel tucked his hand on Dean’s side, his fingers curling around Dean’s ribs, and he noticed that Dean’s skin was soft here from the shower also, and though it was cool to touch Castiel could feel the warmth underneath. Dean stroked a thumb down Castiel’s cheek, a tender look in his eyes. ‘I wasn’t trying to blow you off earlier, Cas.’ Dean broke the silence.

‘Okay.’ Cas didn’t want to rock the boat with his insecurity. He was enjoying whatever this was with Dean, especially after the uncertainty that came from Meg’s kiss.

‘Hey, don’t be mad,’ Dean whispered, running his fingernails over Castiel’s scalp. Castiel wanted to be angry that Dean had started scratching him, but there was something relaxing about the motion. He closed his eyes instead, moving his head into Dean’s fingers. ‘I’m going to make it up to you now, okay?’

‘How’re you going to do that?’ Castiel was barely audible. Dean laughed quietly, still running his nails across Castiel’s head.

‘Think I already am,’ Dean purred. Castiel nodded, not wanting Dean’s touch to end. ‘Is this what you wanted, Cas? When you asked me out?’

‘What do you mean?’ Castiel’s voice was slow, sluggish. The words felt like they’d been dredged through syrup.

‘This, you and me, in our own little world. Is it what you wanted?’

‘I don’t know, Dean. I just wanted you.’

‘I prefer this, you know. Just us.’

Castiel didn’t know how to respond. Dean was rarely this open with anyone, and he was worried that one false move would make Dean clam up, would stop his wonderful touch.

‘What were you after, Cas?’ Dean whispered again. Castiel opened his eyes, and saw Dean smiling up at him. ‘Be honest.’

‘I don’t know, Dean-‘

‘Please, Cas. Tell me.’

They stared in each other’s eyes for a few moments, and Castiel could feel, underneath his chest, Dean’s heart beating more rapidly than his own.

‘I wanted more than just one date.’ Castiel’s voice was low, and though he wanted to he couldn’t turn away from Dean’s luscious green eyes. He felt like he was falling into them.

‘I know.’ Dean’s voice had gone husky.

‘I like all the dates you’ve been talking about, they sound nice, and completely human experiences. But I want to do more than those, I want to travel across the world with you, and show you everything that humans have achieved, everything my Father made to be admired. I want to take you to the coral reefs in Australia, the barren plains of Russia, the peak of Mount Everest. I want to show you things no other human has seen, like the bottom of the ocean and the view from Mars. I want to take you back to the Mayans, the Egyptians, when Columbus discovered America, or take you forward to see what could possibly come for your species in the future. I guess I just want to show you everything I love.’

Dean had been quiet the entire time Castiel was laying himself bare, though his fingers didn’t falter on the angel’s scalp. Castiel assumed he’d gone too far, revealed too much and made Dean uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to shift from the comfortable position on Dean’s chest when the hunter inevitably got angry.

‘Cas,’ he voice broke on the syllable, and he finally stopped scratching Castiel’s head, bringing his hand around and cupping Castiel’s chin gently. His eyes flicked back and forth for a moment, and Castiel realised that Dean was trying to decide which of his eyes to focus on. ‘Maybe we could work something out.’

Castiel didn’t know how to respond to that. Was Dean … was he suddenly open to more than one date? Could Castiel have everything he was after? The door swung open before Castiel had to think of a reply, and Sam walked in, talking.

‘Are you going to sulk all day, Dean or can we-JESUS!’ He had finally noticed that his brother wasn’t alone, and that he and Castiel were practically naked again.

‘No, it’s Cas. Is Jesus a compliment?’ Dean grinned at Castiel, and the angel knew the moment had gone. The serious, quiet talk that they were having, the opportunity to push their relationship in the direction Castiel wanted, it was all gone.

‘Jesus was a man, not an angel.’ He muttered, dropping his gaze to Dean’s chin, and the tiny hairs that covered it. Dean turned to Sam.

‘Can you go now?’

‘Yeah, I need to go burn my eyes out now. Maybe put a bullet in my brain. Because Dean? Your towel isn’t covering a thing.’

Sam stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him, and Castiel cast a casual glance down to Dean’s towel, trying to see what Sam had been referring to. All he could see, past Dean’s muscular stomach, was the fluffy white threads of the towel. Dean laughed, his body rocking slightly underneath Castiel.

‘Are you trying to get in on the show?’

‘No, I just,’ Castiel looked up, and saw the humour dancing in Dean’s eyes. ‘I didn’t think Sam was correct. And he’s not, you’re covered.’

‘Do you want me to be covered?’ Dean’s words were teasing, but the catch in his throat meant that Castiel knew the truth. Dean wanted to be naked in front of him. Did he want the same back from Castiel? And what would it mean for Castiel’s grace?

‘I don’t know, Dean.’ He murmured.

‘Hey, Sam’s not going to come in again, quit worrying.’

‘I’m not,’ Castiel looked deep into Dean’s eyes.

‘Yeah, you are. I know you, Cas. Talk to me.’

‘I’m not worried about Sam,’ Castiel repeated. Dean untucked the hand from behind his head and began scratching Castiel’s head again, still holding his chin with the other hand.

‘What’re you worried about?’

Dean was looking at Castiel intently, his whole body shifting towards the angel as though that would somehow give Castiel the reassurance he needed.

‘It’s just … I’ve fallen for you in so many ways, Dean,’ Castiel didn’t miss the moment that Dean seemed to wince, but he ploughed on regardless. ‘And Heaven has always taken me back, which is more than any other rebellious angel has ever been granted. I’m worried that if we continue like this, I won’t be taken back again. I’ll be in a worse position than Lucifer.’

Dean was frowning, and Castiel reached up to smooth the creases in his forehead.

‘The other angels are dicks,’ Dean said simply. ‘It’s not between you and them, Cas. It’s between you and me.’

‘I think it’s between myself and my father, Dean. If he were here still, I would ask his consent to be with you.’

Dean smirked.

‘Think that’s my job. Do you want to?’

‘Do I want to?’ Castiel repeated, perplexed. Did Dean mean for Castiel to ask for God’s permission to be together?

‘Yeah.’

‘Do I want to what?’ Castiel pressed, moving his hands to run through Dean’s hair, which was soft and fluffy from the shower, and silky-smooth to touch.

‘Have sex with me.’

Castiel stopped moving his hands, and instead gazed intently at Dean.

‘I mean, if you could guarantee you’d still be an angel, still be allowed in Heaven, none of that stuff even mattered. Would you want to sleep with me?’

Castiel barely made a sound, he merely mouthed the word _yes_. Dean smiled, and began trailing his hands down Castiel’s chest.  
‘Good. Because I want to fuck your brains out.’

Castiel waited for the inevitable onslaught, of Dean’s grabbing limbs and thrusting hips and urgent mouth, but none of it came. Instead, he stroked his fingers back and forth along Castiel’s body, and though his touch was warm, it sent shivers all over Castiel.

‘I want to strip you down, until you’re naked in front of me. I want to kiss you all over, touching you wherever I can, feeling you react to everything. I want you to go down on me, licking and sucking like the only thing you ever needed was my dick, but before you get me off, I spin you around and slam into your ass like sex began with us. And I don’t want to stop, Cas.’

Dean was whispering, but the words were loud to Castiel. He stared back at the hunter, unable to believe the comments Dean was making. He wouldn’t be able to talk to Dean the way Dean was talking to him, would not be able to express his physical urges in that way. He said the only thing that seemed halfway appropriate.

‘I want to give you that experience, Dean.’

Dean stared back at him, and then slowly trailed his fingers to the band of Castiel’s boxers. Castiel sucked in a breath as Dean began to peel them down slowly, his fingertips grazing on Castiel’s lower abdomen, and along his legs. Dean sat up slightly, pushing Castiel down onto the bed, their eyes never leaving each others as Dean shuffled slowly down the bed, his towel falling off as he pulled Castiel’s underwear all the way off. And then he sat back, looking at Castiel, his eyes sweeping lazily over Castiel’s body. Castiel could feel a strange tingling sensation, as though Dean’s gaze had manifested into something real, with a feather-like touch.

‘Dean,’ Castiel found himself almost moaning the name.

‘We won’t do anything, Cas. I get it. But I can still appreciate your body, can’t I?’

‘It’s just a vessel,’ Castiel found himself protesting.

‘Not to me, it isn’t. It’s all Cas, to me.’ He crawled back up the bed, and Castiel looked up into his face as he did so, feeling his entire torso buzzing, like he was the empty home of a thousand bees. Dean lay down on Castiel this time, their faces so close that Castiel could feel Dean’s breath on his own mouth, Dean’s chest a firm weight on Castiel’s, their legs twining together as though they couldn’t be comfortable any other way. He was aware of Dean’s genitals pressed against his own, but for his own sanity, Castiel tried to put it out of his mind. Instead he focused on the green that hovered above him, intense and warm and intelligent. Dean’s eyes revealed too much of his softer side.

‘I’m trying real hard not to fool around with you, you know.’ Dean whispered.

‘So am I, Dean,’ Castiel promised breathily. And in a moment of reckless desire, he blurted. ‘Who are we trying that for?’

‘Well, you said your-‘

‘Please Dean, please touch me.’

Dean bit his lip, and Castiel groaned.

‘Please, please Dean,’ he leaned up, catching Dean’s lips with his own, trying to remember what happened in some of the videos he’d watched on the internet. ‘Do we have lube?’

‘No babe. We don’t,’ Dean leaned away slightly from Castiel’s searching lips. ‘Okay Cas, okay, here’s what we do.’ He sighed, and tugged at his hair in frustration. ‘We’re not going to sleep together tonight, it’s too soon. We haven’t even had that date you wanted, not really. And like you pointed out, no lube. But I will do one thing for you. Okay?’

Castiel nodded, his breathing already coming out in shaky starts and stops. Dean smiled, and reached down to kiss him properly, his tongue lashing around Castiel’s, their mouths pressed together, and he began to move in a sinewy motion over Castiel, rolling down from his shoulders to his knees. Castiel felt himself get hard against Dean’s stomach, as Dean slowly manoeuvred back down the bed, kissing every inch of the angel’s skin, just as he had promised. His hands caressed Castiel’s torso as he progressed, pausing to massage Castiel’s nipples, to suck on each one, licking and nibbling as he did. Castiel was beginning to moan incoherently, enjoying this experience more than the last one. There was a difference in Dean’s attentions, and Castiel felt more secure with what was happening, even as he had no control over what Dean was planning.

‘What are you going to do to me, Dean?’ Castiel whispered, closing his eyes as Dean left his nipples alone, kissing onto his stomach.

‘What I said I wanted you to do to me.’

Castiel thought back, and realised where Dean’s mouth was heading. He began to push down on Dean’s head, urging him onward, untangling his legs from Dean’s and wrapping them around his torso instead. Dean’s mouth was finally at Castiel’s groin, and he began planting tiny kisses along the shaft, taking his time, teasing Castiel. Castiel kept his eyes firmly closed, trying to enhance the experience by remaining unaware of what Dean was planning. Dean’s breath alone was erotic, caressing the sensitive skin as he moved, licking along the underside of Castiel’s cock. Castiel groaned loudly as Dean got to his head, and began working his way down, his mouth sealing over Castiel, making a rhythm with his head movements that Castiel found himself responding to, thrusting up into Dean’s mouth every time Dean descended on him. All of Castiel’s doubts were muted by the explosion of sensation that was erupting within him. He could vaguely hear the thump of Dean’s headboard against the wall, the creak of the bedsprings underneath the memory foam mattress Dean favoured. But it didn’t register as much as the way Dean’s lips were sliding up and down over him, the warmth of Dean’s breath, the way he was twirling his tongue around the shaft, the way his hands were still caressing Castiel, exploring every inch of skin he could reach.

Castiel was lost in the moment, in the way that Dean was giving this one appendage so much attention, in the way his body was responding as though it knew what Dean was intending. And then the world exploded, and Dean stopped moving, and Castiel started to come back to himself. He heard Dean gagging slightly, his mouth still wrapped halfway along Castiel’s penis. The angel lifted his head though it felt leaden, and tried to focus on what was wrong.

‘Dean?’

Dean didn’t respond straight away, but slowly lifted himself from Castiel, pressing his lips together and swallowing, then looking back up the bed, into Castiel’s eyes. He crawled back up the bed, and burrowed next to Castiel, kissing his shoulder and grazing his knuckles along Castiel’s bicep.

‘Was that okay?’ Castiel asked. He knew from the videos and descriptions and diagrams he’d seen just what Dean had done for him.

‘Mmm, yeah. How was it for you?’

‘An experience.’ Castiel admitted. Dean chuckled into his shoulder.

‘A good one, I hope.’

‘Better.’

Castiel turned his head to look at Dean, and brushed a kiss across his forehead. If sex was going to be anywhere near as good as that, then Castiel would be willing to fall completely for Dean. He wanted to tell Dean that, but he was worried Dean would pass it off, a result of the effects of the fellatio. Castiel’s mind was almost set. Dean would be entirely worth it. Besides, why would Castiel want to be in Heaven if it wasn’t guaranteed that Dean would get in?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may begin tagging this story, because Cas and Dean's relationship is about to get very intense. Sorry it's so much later than the Dean counter-part in Date With An Angel (although, this version seems more popular?) but I hope you enjoy it regardless, it's taken me ages!
> 
> Warning for this chapter: BDSM and kink. And Meg, she needs a lot of warnings!
> 
> Internet cookies if you can guess who Sam's talking with online!

Dean fell asleep lying on Castiel’s chest, his body weighty and warm. Castiel didn’t care that Dean was pinning him in place, because it meant that Dean was everywhere, all over him. The feel of Dean’s skin was better than any clothes, or anything in Heaven. It felt real, in way that Castiel would not be able to describe very well.

He stroked Dean’s cheek gently as the hunter slept, not minding when a small trail of drool dripped out of Dean’s mouth and onto Castiel’s shoulder. There was something endearing about it, something that made Dean seem more achievable. As Dean slept through the night, Castiel replayed the events of the evening in his head, remembering every touch, every look they’d shared, the buzzing feeling in his chest, every word they had said. He was scared that he was remembering it incorrectly, that Dean hadn’t been willing to be so intimate with him, that he’d imagined that Dean had practically agreed they needed more than one date.

Even in the dark as Dean slept on him, Castiel’s heart was threatening to burst out of his chest, it hammered so vigorously because Castiel was reliving their conversation. The way Dean had taken him seriously, the way he had listened as Castiel confessed to all the things he wanted. The tone of Dean’s voice as he described what he wanted from Castiel. And the things Dean had done to him, beyond what he had done with his hands and his mouth, the chain reactions in Castiel’s body, the way he had lost control from Dean’s touch. And afterwards, the way they had lain together for a few minutes, talking and touching like Dean wanted to reassure Castiel of something.

And how it had changed, because Dean suddenly wanted to leave the room. And Castiel had tried to make him stay, afraid he had done something wrong. How Dean had stuttered through an explanation that Castiel hadn’t totally understood, and Dean had to force the words out.

_‘Sorry, Cas, I gotta go.’_

_‘What do you mean, you gotta go?’ Castiel thought his voice sounded far too relaxed. He wanted to beg Dean to stay._

_‘It’s a human thing, that’s all. I’ll be back.’_

_‘Please, don’t. I like this.’_

_‘Babe, I’ll be back,’ Dean had tried to soothe him._

_‘What is it you’ve gotta do? Can I help?’ Castiel had pushed back, desperate to cling to their intimate moment._

_‘I don’t think you’d want to, Cas.’_

_‘Please, Dean.’_

_Dean sighed, and groaned._

_‘Look, Cas, I got you off and I liked it, of course I did, but I gotta release too, you know? So I’m just gonna go beat one out quickly, is that cool with you?’_

_‘I don’t know what you just said to me.’_

_Dean sighed, burying his head in Castiel’s neck._

_‘I gave you head, can you please just be okay for five minutes while I have a knuckle shuffle? Babe, I’ll be back, and then we can sleep. Well, I can sleep, you can do whatever it is you do.’ There was a pause, where Castiel didn’t want to admit he hadn’t understood a word, and Dean realised he still wasn’t being clear enough for Castiel. Castiel had heard the change in tone, the way Dean struggled through his rephrasing. ‘Castiel, I liked sucking your dick, just as much as you did. But I have needs too, okay? I got just as turned on as you did. I’m not asking you for anything, except a couple of minutes to get some relief.’_

_Castiel’s eyes had widened as he realised what Dean was referring to._

_‘You can do that here.’ Castiel had offered, his voice low, an attempt to be sultry so that Dean would struggle to deny him. Dean had lifted his head slightly._

_‘You sure? I mean, it’d be easier-‘_

_‘I’ll help.’_

_Dean kissed Castiel’s chin gently, before laying back on Castiel’s chest, his hands sliding down Castiel’s body before fixing themselves around his own penis. Castiel had flung a blanket over them, and wrapped Dean in his arms as Dean began to pump his hands, breathing hard, his eyes closed._

_‘Did you want me to help, Dean?’ Castiel kept up the sultry voice. Dean shook his head, and paused briefly to bestow a small kiss in between Castiel’s pectorals. And then he carried on where he left off, grunting as he went. Castiel lay underneath him, wondering if maybe it would have been best to just let Dean go. The entire situation was very awkward. But then Dean let out a long moan, and stopped moving, and Castiel felt something spurting over his thighs, trickling down onto the sheets, warm and sticky, and all from Dean._

_‘Shit, sorry Cas,’ Dean had muttered, and Castiel had squeezed him close._

_‘Leave it,’ Castiel had whispered back. ‘I like it.’_

Dean hadn’t answered, and a moment later Castiel heard him breathing heavily, and his weight seemed to increase on Castiel’s chest. Castiel hadn’t been lying, he’d enjoyed the wet warmth that covered his legs, and knowing that part of Dean was slowly drying on him. He knew how depraved the whole situation was, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He really was a pitiful excuse for an angel. But in his mind, it bonded them further, much like when Dean had ingested some of the same excretion from Castiel. He’d been so casual about it, and Castiel felt curious as to what he tasted like to Dean. Dean had said he’d liked it, that was a good thing, wasn’t it?

Castiel was feeling more confident about the state of their relationship. It didn’t seem to matter if he wiped Dean’s memory, Dean still wanted him, in every possible way. The only thing really weighing on Castiel’s mind now was sex. Because Dean was very physical, he understood that, but also, Dean had a world of experience behind him. And Castiel did not. Dean didn’t seem to care about that fact, but it bothered Castiel because they didn’t feel very equal in the relationship. Yes, he had some basic idea of what happened when humans mated, and with his recent research, what went on between two men in sexual relationships, but putting it into practice was different to how the books said, how the videos portrayed it.

So despite being content to lay in bed with Dean, despite wanting the things they had begun to discuss, he pressed two fingers to Dean’s forehead, whispered an apology, and wiped Dean’s memory before disappearing from the bed, reappearing in the kitchen fully dressed, and completely devoid of any of Dean’s bodily juices. Sam was in the room, sipping a cup of coffee and putting his iPod in an armband. Castiel recognised the signs of Sam preparing for a run.

‘Good morning, Sam.’

‘Morning Cas. Dean still asleep?’

Castiel nodded, standing across the room as Sam stretched his legs.

‘I’m sorry for last night, Sam. We didn’t think you’d walk in.’

‘It’s okay.’ Sam cringed, and Castiel could tell that it was anything but. ‘I seem to have a knack for that. Everything going okay with you two? Not that I want details, or anything.’

‘We’re fine. Great.’

Sam nodded, and Castiel hoped it was the end of the conversation.

‘Good. I can tell he’s happy with you. I’ve never seen him this committed to anything, you know. Which is kinda weird, when he can’t remember anything for the last week. Has he mentioned anything to you? Did you talk about it at all last night?’

‘I forgot, Sam. I’m sorry. I was preoccupied-‘ Castiel blushed, and Sam interrupted hastily.

‘Yeah, okay, I get that. Look, I’m going for a run, you can have some privacy with him for the next hour, right? If he’s up anyway. And then I wanna look for some work.’

‘I have to go myself, so feel free to look for a case.’ Castiel smiled, and Sam frowned at him.

‘Angel stuff?’

‘Yes. I’ve been neglecting my duties. I need to go and make sure Heaven isn’t falling apart without me.’

Castiel gave Sam a brief smile, and disappeared out of the bunker. He had lied to Sam, and not felt guilty about doing so, because he felt that Sam would judge him heavily if he knew exactly what Castiel was up to. Which was zapping over to Amsterdam, in particular the red light district. He’d heard that there was an abundance of depravity associated with the area, and he hoped that by going there, he would find all the supplies he needed.

He noticed a window display full of plastic penises, in different sizes and colours, and entered the store, looking around at all the shelving. There were candies, and key chains and ice cube trays, all penis themed. He couldn’t help but compare the brief glimpses he’d had of Dean to these plastic impressions. Dean was better, he decided. Thicker, slightly longer, and not bright green.

An assistant approached him, a nose ring between her nostrils, several lip piercings decorating her thin mouth, and a few studs embedded by her temples. Her dark hair bleached with two-inch thick roots, and the tips dyed bright green and blue. Her clothes were in a similar state, the cropped top torn and bound with pins, her shorts frayed and exposing the bottom of her backside, her thigh-high boots tapering into six-inch stilettos. But her smile was friendly, and from what Castiel could tell her soul was pure and good, so he didn’t feel in the least bit intimidated. Surely she would understand the situation?

‘Hello, can I help?’ She asked, her voice had a thick quality, combined with a strange lilt that sounded almost hypnotic. Castiel loved the language, there was something so relaxing about it. He responded in equally fluent Dutch.

‘I hope so. I’m looking for some supplies.’

She smiled, and put her hands on her tiny, exposed hips.

‘Supplies for what?’

Castiel took a deep breath, and began to explain, hoping she wouldn’t turn it into a joke, or react as Sam would.

‘I’ve recently found myself in a relationship with another man. We care very much about each other, but he’s had a lot of partners, and he’s my first. I just wanted to find something that we would both enjoy, that he would know how to use and he could show me. Do you have anything like that?’

Her eyes lit up, and she smiled widely, and Castiel began to have misgivings. Her soul seemed so pure, but maybe he just wasn’t able to read people correctly any more.  
‘He’s your first boyfriend and you already want to experiment?’ Her smile grew until it took over her entire face. Castiel thought she looked pretty like that. ‘He’s a lucky man. Don’t worry, we can help. Come through here,’ she walked through a dark curtain, and Castiel took another deep breath before following.

The room was dark, lit by eerie purple tube lighting which seemed to enhance all the lurid colours of the stock on the shelves. He eyed the merchandise apprehensively.

‘Okay, so are you a top or a bottom? Do you dom-sub or switch?’ The girl asked as she rummaged in a box.

‘I don’t know what you’re asking me.’ Castiel hadn’t understood those references in his research either. ‘We’ve been together a week.’

‘Okay,’ she tapped her chin. ‘Well, you said he’s experienced, you’re probably the bottom. Does he have any supplies?’

Castiel shrugged, and she smiled at him again.

‘You’re going to be my best customer,’ she declared, and passed him a couple of tubes. ‘Pick a flavour.’

He looked at the labels. One said cherry, one said vanilla. He looked back at her, and on her encouraging nod, passed the vanilla one back, holding the cherry one close. Cherry was a pie flavour, wasn’t it? She moved on, grabbing things from different cases and shelves, and Castiel found himself clutching all manner of things he hadn’t anticipated, like something called _body chocolate_. A larger replica of the plastic penises outside, this one rubbery in texture and thankfully, a more realistic peach colouring. A small pink hoop that buzzed when Castiel pressed a button. Something called a garter belt. A device made entirely of thin leather straps and studs. A small perspex box that the assistant promised was meant to go around Castiel’s genitalia. Tiny devices complete with tassels that the assistant called “nipple clamps”. Beads that she assured him were for ‘ass play’. A small structure she referred to as a plug. Handcuffs. Two very different looking things she declared were whips. She had casually asked him if they were into torture play or medical play, and Castiel had shaken his head hastily, eyeing the strange contraption she had held up when asking. It didn’t look safe at all.

She led him to the bins of condoms by the till, and began ringing up the things in Castiel’s arms as she told him to help himself, they were on the house. He scooped a few handfuls out, dropping them into the bag she held out, and then spotted the rows of DVDs behind the counter. One in particular stood out for him.

‘Can I have that too?’ He pointed, and she followed his finger, frowning at his choice.

‘Are you sure? It’s hetero.’

‘It’s The Pizza Man,’ Castiel declared proudly. She smiled indulgently, and rang it up.

‘You know, he’s done other work, that guy. You seen him as a fireman?’ She grabbed another case from the shelf. ‘The whole firehouse get it on. He’ll screw anyone. You’ll enjoy it, I think.’

Castiel smiled, though he wasn’t sure what she meant. The pizza man had a job as a fire fighter? Was he moonlighting just to have intercourse with babysitters? He would have to study this in depth. She gave him the total, and Castiel sighed, before putting his hand in his pocket and making a fistful of Euros appear, handing them over and waiting while she counted them out. She beamed at him again as she gave him the change.

‘Enjoy yourself with your boyfriend. And while you’re in town, there’s a few clubs you should check out, you’ll both have an amazing time, I think. Here-’ she slid some fliers into one of the bags, and passed the bags across the counter to Castiel ‘-tell them you came here, you’ll get a great discount. Play safe now!’

Castiel smiled back, glad that his first impression of her had been correct, and left the store, clutching his bags. Now he had to return to Lawrence, and store the merchandise somewhere safe until he could bring it up with Dean. He wasn’t sure how Dean would react to his purchases, but he was bound to be enthusiastic about using some of the equipment, wasn’t he?

‘Hey Clarence,’ a voice broke through his musings. He turned and saw Meg, leaning against the door to the store. ‘What’ve you got there, presents for Dean?’

‘What do you want, Meg?’ Castiel sneered, making his voice brittle. He still hadn’t forgiven Meg for what had happened at the carnival.

‘Is that any way to treat an old friend? Did our last kiss mean nothing?’

‘Leave me alone Meg. He wants me too.’

‘Does he? Does he really? Because word on the grapevine is, Dean Winchester’s losing his memory. Dean Winchester doesn’t even know what day it is. So why would he remember that he’s with you?’

Castiel bit his lip, and that was enough for Meg to read his body language correctly.

‘You’re the one doing it, aren’t you? You’re wiping his memory. Oh, Castiel, what’re you thinking?’

‘It’s none of your business, Meg.’

‘Does he not want you really, and you’re just doing this to delay the inevitable?’

‘No, Meg. Not that it’s any of your business. Dean only granted me one date, I just couldn’t let it go.’

‘You spent a long time and a lot of money in a sex store for just one date, Castiel. What’s Dean going to do when he finds out?’

‘Don’t you dare tell him!’ Castiel nearly dropped one of the bags. ‘This is between me and Dean.’

‘I don’t think so, Castiel. One of the Winchesters is technically out of action? Your brothers and sisters are making plans just like the demons are, and every day you wipe Dean’s memory is another day closer to his destruction.’ She sounded casual, smirking as she leaned back, watching Castiel absorb the information.

‘Why should I believe you? You’re just a demon.’

‘That hurts, Castiel, we’ve shared so many good moments together. I guess I just want to stick it to all the demons that treat me like crap for still loving Lucifer. I want to give you a chance. For old times’ sake. Just think about it.’

She disappeared, and Castiel clutched his purchases close to him. Was there anything valid in what Meg was saying? Castiel hoped she was wrong.He zapped himself back into the bunker, and stowed the merchandise next to his stuffed toy from the carnival. He would work out how to handle this.

*

Castiel listened for the sounds of Dean and Sam in the floors below, after going through some of his purchases, trying to understand what they were all for. All seemed quiet, but he was already missing Dean. He zapped himself into the meeting room, where Sam was clicking away on his laptop and Dean was poring through one of the Men of Letter’s relic boxes, examining the ancient trinkets inside. Neither brother looked up as he appeared, though Sam started talking almost straight away.

‘Hey Cas. We were just talking about you,’ Sam declared, and Castiel had a bad sense of foreboding. There was a humorous tone to Sam’s voice that he wasn’t sure he trusted. Castiel looked at Dean, who was holding some kind of medal, his eyes trained on the trinket in his hands. The hunter seemed uncomfortable, and Castiel realised that Sam was trying to upset him.

‘Oh.’ Castiel could only muster the most pitiful response. He wasn’t going to encourage Sam, not at Dean’s expense. Sam returned to his laptop when he realised that Castiel wasn’t going to play ball, and the angel walked slowly over to the man he loved, noticing how Dean’s hands slipped on the thing in his hand.

‘Hey Cas.’ Dean sounded choked as he put the medal on the table, and reached into the cardboard box he was slowly poring through. He pulled out a wooden box, giving it his full attention as he began to rub the back of his neck, and Castiel watched every movement, smiling to himself. He knew, could sense, that Dean wasn’t angry. Instead, the hunter seemed apprehensive about something, and Castiel found that endearing.

Dean’s eyes flickered up, meeting Castiel’s and stalling there. He lowered the wooden box slowly, his hands shaking slightly. Was it Castiel who was making Dean nervous? Why? Dean had no memories of the previous day, Castiel was sure of it. But when the angel’s smile grew, a muscle pulled in the hunter’s cheek and Castiel wondered if maybe he’d done something wrong. As nervous as Dean seemed, there was something predatory in his gaze too. Castiel almost expected Dean to rush at him, attack him, and he would be powerless to resist. He made an attempt at being friendly.

‘Hello, Dean.’

Those two words carried so much emotion, Castiel thought. If he had cared to ask Sam, he was sure the taller hunter would agree. But he didn’t care to know what Sam thought, he was focused on what was about to happen between himself and Dean. Something was bound to, it was almost tangible in the air. Dean’s eyes narrowed slightly, just for a moment, and Castiel had a moment of misgiving before Dean finally spoke to him.

‘Wanna go out?’ He rushed out. Castiel managed not to show his surprise on his face, though he was taken aback by Dean proposing a date. He hadn’t been expecting that development, not with the near-violent look in Dean’s eyes. Castiel became aware of Sam tapping heavily on his laptop, and he turned to look at the younger brother, knowing it could be a mistake considering Dean’s aura.

‘Sam, you’d better not be gossiping with her.’

Castiel hadn’t been expecting Dean to comment on Sam’s behaviour, but maybe the older hunter was glad of the interruption as well. The angel had no idea what Dean was talking about, or what woman Sam could possibly be talking with. He looked back at his lover instead, stroking a hand down the strong, well-toned bicep, lingering as long as possible before sliding his fingertips along Dean’s palm, lacing their fingers together. He felt comforted when Dean flexed his fingers slightly, squeezing Castiel’s gently, his actions at complete odds with the fire in his gaze.

Castiel forced himself to stay on point, to ignore what Sam was doing and focus on Dean.

‘I’d love to go somewhere, Dean. Where were you thinking?’

Castiel watched as Dean pursed his lips, just for a moment, and then he ran his tongue around his bottom lip. Castiel was almost hypnotised by the action, and he barely heard Dean speaking.

‘… movies they’re showing?’

Castiel looked at Dean, whose cheeks were tensing, his neck slightly strained, and a tic was appearing near his eyes, which were blazing with that strange look. Before Castiel could explain that he hadn’t heard what Dean had said, the hunter carried on talking.

‘Think of it as a human experience, Cas.’

Dean’s voice was tight, and Castiel could tell he was resisting some urge, though he couldn’t tell what urge Dean was suppressing.

‘Yeah, that’s not the only human experience my brother wants to give you.’ Sam’s voice penetrated Castiel’s attention, and he realised what Dean had been fighting himself over for the entire conversation. But Dean was tugging him through the bunker, into the garage, before Castiel could do anything more. He found himself being flung roughly against the car, and Dean bearing down on him, the intense desire even more prominent in his eyes, his expression, in his entire body language. Castiel slipped his arms around Dean’s solid middle, hoping he was signalling to Dean that it was okay, he wanted it too.

‘If you don’t want to go, that’s fine Dean.’ Castiel murmured, fighting his own desire on the possibility that he was misunderstanding the hunter. Maybe this was a sign that Dean would be willing to use most of Castiel’s purchases? But the hunter shook his head slightly, as though he was rousing himself.

‘I want to go.’ He stepped back, away from Castiel, and forced a cough. Castiel felt a sense of insecurity creeping back in. Hadn’t Dean just wanted to become physical, to connect with him in that way?

‘Get in.’ Dean gestured to the car door, and then walked around the car without any further glances at Castiel, and then angel felt a wave of hurt. He wanted to tell Dean that he wanted to stay, he wanted what he thought Dean had been thinking, and he wasn’t worried about whatever human experience Dean was working on. Besides, if this was a date, Castiel wasn’t happy about it being sprung upon him in this manner. What if Dean still turned around and declared that their one date was over, that was the end of it? But at the same time, he didn’t want Dean to leave him in the bunker with Sam’s awkward questions, so he climbed in the car, not missing the moment that Dean squeezed his eyes shut as though he were in pain.

Dean drove in silence, the car filled with a thick tension, and Castiel felt almost relieved when Dean stopped the car and climbed out. His mood was almost tangible, and Castiel wasn’t sure how to work around it and communicate properly with Dean. He decided to try to take his cues from the hunter, and followed him into the movie theatre, where Dean stalled in the lobby, looking up at board full of words that Castiel could see no cohesion to. Dean seemed comfortable enough to scan through the words, his face moving slightly as he read, and when he looked at Castiel finally, he was awarded with a weak smile.

‘So, what happens?’ Castiel asked eventually. Dean just stared back at him, and it raised Castiel’s temperature, and made his heart thud harder. He made an attempt to go back to the bunker, hoping for something more intimate. ‘You know, I have some movies at home.’

‘We’re here now. What about Gut Slasher Five? It’s a sequel, so it’s going to be extra tacky.’

Dean almost didn’t seem aware of the aura he was carrying, and Castiel knew it was better to just go along with Dean’s wishes. Without Castiel’s input, Dean had clearly decided that Castiel was agreeing to his choice, and he grabbed the angel’s hand roughly, dragging him over to the ticket desk and paying while Castiel cast a glance around the room. And suddenly, Dean was leading him over to the snacks desk, which smelled of synthetic butter and plenty of sugar. Dean’s voice was in his ear, his breath hot, his voice low and deep and dangerous, despite the subject matter.

‘You wanna share a popcorn?’

‘I don’t eat, Dean.’

‘Fine.’ Dean purchased a tub of popcorn regardless, and led the way into the screen where their movie was due to begin. As Dean approached their chairs, Castiel’s feet almost faltered. Gathered in the seats besides the ones Dean was walking towards were four angels in various vessels. Dean passed a glance at the angels, and then at Castiel, before he slumped into one of the chairs. Castiel followed, taking his seat apprehensively, his conversation with Meg fresh in his mind. Were these angels checking up on his relationship with Dean, or how Dean’s memory was functioning? He decided, as much as he wanted to dissolve some of the tension between himself and the hunter, that he would restrain himself, at least in the cinema. Then there would be no trouble from the other angels.

It was difficult to resist Dean, especially when Dean slid an arm around his shoulders, tugging him closer to Dean’s firm chest. It was difficult to concentrate on the movie with Dean pressed so close, with the other angels nearby, by Castiel forced himself to. The mutilations were graphic and varied and Castiel wanted to be prepared in case the other angels were taking tips. Just on the chance that Meg was correct. He leaned forward in his seat, Dean’s arm slipping down slightly and resting somewhere along his waist instead.

There was a particularly detailed scene where a girl was cut in half, the girl screaming in agony, and Dean leaned closer, whispering in Castiel’s ear, unaware that the angels could hear every word.

‘When we get home, I’m going to give it to you so bad.’

Castiel felt himself grow hot, but tried to remain level-headed. If the angels only heard comments from Dean, that wouldn’t be so bad, would it? They couldn’t judge him so horribly if that were the case, could they?

‘Please say you’re not talking about killing me.’

‘Of course not, Cas. I’m horny.’

Castiel couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his face. Dean could be so adorably Dean sometimes. So simple, and so unafraid to be himself. Castiel couldn’t help flirting back.

‘So you picked this film just to engage in amorous activity?’

‘Duh, Cas.’

‘It won’t be long. Enjoy the film.’ Castiel deflected Dean as best as he could, though he wanted nothing more than to give in to his boyfriend. He couldn’t resist taking Dean’s hand at the very least, so the hunter knew it wasn’t a personal thing.

Castiel was relieved when, as the film ended and the credits began to show, Dean jumped out of his seat and tugged him along, down the aisle and out of the screen, not stopping until they were outside and halfway to the Impala. Then Dean stopped walking and thrust Castiel against the brick wall, pressing close the way he had back in the garage of the bunker.

‘You’re driving me crazy.’ Dean whispered in a hurried voice, before pressing his lips firmly onto Castiel’s, his tongue already probing around the angel’s mouth, even as Castiel laughed, and kissed him back enthusiastically, slipping his hands up along Dean’s neck, losing himself in the moment and knowing that, were the angels to see this, they would see that Dean was the one in charge.

Dean ended the kiss as abruptly as it had begun, and looked at Castiel with that same charged gleam in his eyes. But Castiel couldn’t focus on it, or enjoy the subtext, because he could see one angel standing just behind Dean, shaking their head with disappointment. Dean seemed unaware, growling at Castiel instead, with a voice that promised more than the words he spoke.

‘Let’s go home.’

Relief sank through Castiel’s being. Home meant the bunker, which was protected from other angels, or anyone that neither Sam nor Dean invited in. Home meant he was free to just be with his boyfriend, how they wanted to be. Dean didn’t wait for a response, leading the way to the Impala with impatient feet, and speeding off before Castiel had properly closed his door. Dean’s speed didn’t falter for the entire journey, and he screeched to a halt in the garage, throwing his door open just before removing his keys from the ignition. Dean’s impatience was contagious, and Castiel zapped himself out, standing directly in front of Dean as they fell into each other, kissing each other desperately, and Castiel remembered the things he’d bought in Amsterdam. If there was ever a time to bring them up, this was it. He tried to pause Dean’s amorous onslaught, but the hunter was not going to be deterred easily.

’I bought some stuff for us.’ He managed to whisper, his face pressed close to Dean’s ear. Dean continued attacking Castiel’s neck with his lips, and Castiel used his angelic powers to keep Dean at arms length long enough to make his point, trying to distract himself from the way Dean’s chest felt pressed against his fingers. He was suddenly so sure that Dean would love what he’d done. ‘I’ll be a moment, Dean. Meet me in your room?’

And Castiel zapped up to his secret, otherwise undiscovered room, gathering the bags from Amsterdam and flashing back into Dean’s room, which Dean was yet to enter. He leaned against the headboard, and arranged the bags around him, the anticipation of what was to come creating that strange, hollow-innards-filled-with-bees sensation. Dean was taking his time, and that was frustrating. He zapped his trench coat and suit jacket off, making them hang from the back of Dean’s desk chair, moments before Dean stomped in, his eyes flaring with lust as he slammed the door shut and threw himself onto the bed, onto Castiel, kissing every inch of Castiel’s face within reach.

Castiel relished the attention, but he knew if Dean carried on, the chance to use anything would be gone, and Dean would be in control. For once, Castiel wanted to try to control what was between them, at least a little. He made himself resist Dean once again, pushing against his chest, enjoying the feel of Dean’s muscles through his shirt.

‘Can I show you what I got us?’ Cas purred, making his voice as low as he possibly could.

‘Can’t it wait? I’ve got needs, Cas.’ Dean spoke quickly, breathily.

‘Please, Dean, it’ll just take a minute. You won’t regret it.’

‘My dick says otherwise.’

Castiel smiled at Dean’s bloody-mindedness. When Dean focused hard enough, he was hard to stop, but for Castiel it was necessary. He pushed Dean back, giving himself some room, only allowing himself one small kiss before plunging a hand into one of the bags, hoping he could find something inside that would spark Dean’s interest.

‘I hope you don’t mind, but I went to Amsterdam earlier,’ he tried to be conversational, because he knew before he saw Dean’s blank expression that a trip to Amsterdam wasn’t a casual thing for a human. ‘And I know it’s early in our relationship, but when I told the assistant about us she had a lot of recommendations for things we’d need. And I know you like sex, so I thought you’d be okay with her suggestions. I mean, we don’t have to use anything, but I thought maybe … I don’t know.’

This was harder to explain than he would have thought possible. Dean was watching with a hungry look on his face, like he just wanted Castiel to stop talking so he could practically devour the angel. He grabbed the first thing he could and pulled it out, immediately catching Dean’s attention. It was the leather thing, tangled up. Castiel still hadn’t worked out its purpose, unlike some of his other purchases. Some had come with instructions, but this one remained a mystery. He began untangling it, as Dean stuck his hand in the other bag, and Castiel hoped that meant that Dean’s interest was piqued. He looked away from the leather strands at the strange hoop-shaped object that he’d set off earlier, sat on Dean’s palm.

‘I don’t know what that is, but it makes a strange noise and made my fingers tingle when I pressed this button,’ Cas explained, before reaching across and pressing the small lump protruding out of the soft plastic. It began the same buzzing sound as it had in the store, and Dean stared down at it, his face still expressionless.

‘Cas? Is this a cock ring?’ Dean spluttered, and Castiel shrugged in response.

‘I don’t know, what do you do with a cock ring?’

Dean closed his eyes briefly, and Castiel started to have some misgivings. He knew Dean wouldn’t like everything, but did he not at least like that? But when Dean opened his eyes again, and met Castiel’s gaze, there was no mistaking the lust that was still there. At least the cock ring hadn’t destroyed that.

‘I’ll show you later, I guess.’ Dean clicked it off, and returned it to the bag, not noticing Castiel’s disappointment. Later? They were meant to be using something now. He pulled more objects out of his bag, that weird little box that he couldn’t remember the explanation for, and the cat-that-wasn’t-a-cat … thing. Dean distracted him, pointing to the cat-thing. ‘Cas?’

‘She said it was a cat of nine tails, but there seems to be far more than nine.’ Castiel tried to explain. ‘And they’re not tails, much less from cats.’

‘You want to whip me?’

Dean’s voice had altered, and Castiel could practically hear him withdrawing into himself. Without thinking about why Dean would be reticent over the cat-tails, Castiel threw it back into the bag, as though by doing so he could remove the fact he ever produced it. The other whip was probably out too, the long thin one that tapered in a braid. Was there anything that Dean was going to like? Castiel tried to reassure Dean, to maintain something between them. He loved the way Dean’s eyes were smouldering most of the day.

‘No Dean, I don’t want to punish you.’

‘Then why buy S-and-M stuff?’

Dean’s voice didn’t betray any emotion, and Castiel looked back at the whip in the bag, trying to work out how to get Dean back. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, because the spark in Dean seemed muted, but Castiel felt the compulsion to explain himself.

‘Is that what I did? The assistant didn’t really say anything like that.’

There was a silence between them, and Dean leaned over, casually fingering the pile of condoms in the bag closest to him. Castiel waited for Dean’s next move, hoping that it included some way that they could move forward together. It felt to Castiel that it took Dean forever to react.

‘What exactly did you say to each other?’

Dean wasn’t making eye contact, but instead looking at his hand as he played with the condoms. Castiel wished he would just look up, and they’d have their usual intense eye-contact until they couldn’t fight their desire any more.

‘I told her you were experienced and I was not, and that our relationship was new. And she asked a few questions I didn’t understand. Something about top and bottom, and switching?’

Dean finally looked up, his expression calculating now. Castiel pursed his lips, and Dean spoke before he could backtrack.

‘We’ll work it out as we go, Cas. Did you get anything else?’

Castiel had no idea what Dean meant by they would work it out as they went. It sounded like Dean was more interested in the idea than Castiel had realised.

Dean turned around, and scooted backwards until his backside was pressed against Castiel’s leg, where he leaned until he met with Castiel’s chest, which he leaned into. And the angel automatically wrapped an arm around Dean’s waist, kissing the hunter as he rested his head against Castiel. Feeling braver by the sudden showing of affection, Castiel reached into his bag and pulled out the rubber penis, feeling the need to explain now that he couldn’t see the hunter’s eyes.

‘I don’t know why she wanted us to have a rubber penis, when we both have a real one, but apparently it’s worthwhile to have.’

Dean held out his hand without speaking, and Castiel let it fall into the waiting palm, feeling odd that Dean wasn’t speaking about this one. He remembered the lube, suddenly, sure that Dean would at least get excited about that because even the Pizza Man used that, and began rooting through the bags again. As he did, he felt something cool touch his mouth, and he swatted it away without thinking, determined to make Dean happy with the cherry flavouring. The thing pressed closer against his mouth, and Castiel realised it was the dildo. He looked at Dean, who was smirking like he was being mischievous and not at all irritating, and Castiel opened his mouth to sigh. Dean looked delicious like that, as though he had no worries in the world. But opening his mouth was a mistake, because Dean forced the rubber into his mouth, his smile growing, his body twisting around to lay flush against the angel’s.

Castiel felt something furry underneath his fingers, and reacted without thinking, slapping the fur-covered handcuffs across Dean’s wrists, moving them up against Dean’s head as he rolled them over, bearing down on the hunter, some condoms spilling out of the bag and onto Dean’s mattress. Then he slowly withdrew the penis from his mouth, his eyes locked on Dean’s, and he watched as the flames of lust stirred in Dean’s eyes again before sliding the rubber penis into Dean’s mouth. The hunter allowed it to happen, the corners of his mouth turned up as much as they could around the gag in his mouth, and the humour sparkling in his eyes. Castiel knew that somehow, this was the right move. Was Dean really okay to submit in the bedroom? Castiel was going to test that theory over the course of the evening.

‘Do you really want to power play with an angel?’ he growled in the lowest voice he could manage. Dean’s eyes widened, and seemed to soften with pure lust. He didn’t fight Castiel at all, beyond trying to work the rubber penis out of his mouth. Castiel pushed it back in, wondering how far Dean would let him take control.

Dean’s eyelids fluttered slightly as Castiel got comfortable against him, knocking the rest of the bags off the bed and moving the rubber penis in and out of Dean’s mouth. At least the assistant was correct, Castiel considered. There was definitely a fun element to simulating oral sex with Dean, especially when, after a few seconds, Dean began to respond, their eyes still locked on each other, though Dean’s gaze had a faraway quality to them.

Then Dean began writhing, fighting Castiel’s hold on his wrists, thrusting his hips erratically, trying to meet Castiel’s body somehow, his moans muted by the rubber in his mouth. He made a few sharp noises, and Castiel wondered if he was gagging, or protesting. But the shine of desire was thick in Dean’s eyes, and Castiel understood that this was the effect he was aiming for. He just had to learn to control his boyfriend, that was all.

‘Shhhhh!’

Castiel shifted down the bed, revelling in Dean’s renewed gasps around the thing in his mouth, and kissed his neck, biting at the skin, enjoying every part of Dean’s reaction, yet feeling an unfamiliar ache in his own arms. Restraining Dean required a lot of effort. Castiel moved back up along the hunter’s firm, toned body, and exerted as much authority as he thought Dean would let him get away with. He undid his tie, looking down at Dean through heavy-lidded eyes, and the hunter looked back at him, completely helpless, slightly ridiculous with the sex toy in his mouth, but the wildness in his eyes took the humour away from the situation. Somehow Dean had submitted without much fuss, and Castiel became drunk on the power he was allowed to have.

‘How much do you trust me, Dean?’

Dean didn’t moan, or try to resist, instead he looked steadily at Castiel, silently communicating his answer, his eyes rolling up towards the back of his head as the angel leaned closer, his groin coming into contact with Dean’s chin, and Castiel knotted his tie firmly around Dean’s eyes. Once the tie was secure, the angel snapped his fingers, and the rest of their clothes disappeared, rematerialising in a neat pile on the desk in the corner of the room. At the same time, the lube appeared on the bed beside Dean, and the small, bullet-shaped metal object that Castiel had bought materialised directly in his body. He bit down the urge to react, telling himself it would be worth it, and that Dean might question it if he began reacting audibly. Instead, he used his angelic powers to create a chain to bind Dean’s handcuffed wrists to the headboard, preventing Dean from moving easily.

Castiel worked the fake penis out of Dean’s mouth slightly, trying to ensure the hunter would still be able to breathe. And then he moved down the body that he loved so much, kissing and sucking and biting at Dean’s skin, being loving but domineering all at the same time. Dean’s groans and twitching limbs and rolling hips all served to spur him on, determined to pleasure his boyfriend in every way he possibly could.

He was trying to savour every millimetre of Dean’s body, of the soft skin stretched over taut muscles, his thick, firm frame. Of the way Dean’s anti-possession tattoo stood out, dark ink defined on tanned skin. The contrast of Dean’s pink nipples. Of each and every toned bump on Dean’s torso. With every kiss and lick and skim of Castiel’s teeth, Dean writhed underneath him, moaning almost constantly, completely incoherent with the gag in his mouth. He felt like he earned it when he finally made his way to the softer, more pliant skin of Dean’s pelvis, circling Dean’s thick erection. He grabbed the tube of lube, and hastily opened it, squeezing some out on Dean’s body and enjoying watching Dean buck from the coolness of the gel.

Castiel started working his hands around Dean’s testicles, savouring the way Dean seemed to shake on the contact, before he began running his tongue up and down the shaft, following the protruding veins, listening as the noises coming from Dean changed, his breathing ragged and fast-paced. The lube tasted sweet, with a bitter edge, and very synthetic, and Castiel much preferred the salty tang of Dean’s skin, and the way it was beginning to bead with sweat. But the lube made it easier to glide along the slightly wrinkled skin, for Castiel to slide his teeth up towards the head, enjoying the moment when Dean’s leg began to twitch, a strange gurgle coming from the hunter’s throat. He swirled his tongue around the head, following the contours of Dean’s body, tasting something else as he did, something saltier that seemed to seep from Dean’s body. He lapped at it, grateful for it to take the sharp edge off of the taste of the lube, and slid his mouth over Dean’s penis the way Dean had done to him only the night before, trying to remember the way Dean moved his head even as the man underneath him thrust into his mouth. His hands were still working Dean’s engorged balls as he sucked the hunter into his mouth, feeling the way Dean was trembling even with each thrust.

Castiel didn’t know much about human physiology when it came to sexual intercourse, but he knew from the few days experience he had with Dean that a chain reaction was about to occur, and if it did, there would be no reason for the small lump of metal currently in Castiel’s backside. He eased off Dean before it was too late, and zapped the plug out of his body, back into the bags, as squeaky clean as only an angel could make it. He crawled back up Dean’s body, noticing small marks occasionally from where Castiel had peppered Dean’s body with kisses.

When he reached Dean’s face, he saw Dean biting down on the rubber, as though he were bracing himself for something. Castiel gently removed the fake penis from Dean’s mouth, and kissed him in a way that he hoped would show his tender feelings towards the hunter. Dean kissed back with enthusiasm, and rolled his body towards Castiel’s again, as though he were demanding something. Castiel spoke for the first time since he’d tied his tie around Dean’s eyes.

‘Dean? Is this okay so far?’

Dean turned his head slightly, as though he were trying to face Castiel, though the tie was still tight on his eyes.

‘Yeah.’ Dean’s voice was strained, and he bit his teeth together as he spoke as though he were in pain. ‘Yeah Cas. I trust you, right?’

‘Right. So, um, so can I try something else?’ Castiel wasn’t sure that Dean would consider his request, but he had to make the effort. He’d made the decision to put Dean before being an angel, and he wanted to reap the benefits of that.

‘What else? Tell me.’ Dean gasped out, almost choking on the words themselves. And that made the request stick in Castiel’s throat. The hunter’s voice was almost like an aphrodisiac, yet he sounded tense.

‘I can’t say it.’ Castiel managed to mumble. Dean’s voice was louder, raging with emotion as he grunted his reply through his teeth.

‘If you can’t say it, you can’t have it.’

‘Really?’ Castiel was dumbfounded. Wasn’t he meant to be in charge here, not Dean?

‘Really. Spit it out Cas, I’m about to blow.’ Dean blurted, shifting his legs underneath Castiel, letting the angel feel how hard and warm he was. Castiel spoke without another moments thought.

‘Well, I think they call it anal sex.’

There was a pause, and Castiel wondered if he should have called it something else. Dean would have. But it was anal sex, that’s what his research had said, so Castiel was correct, wasn’t he?

‘Go for it.’ Dean grunted out. Castiel paused for a moment as it sank in what Dean had just said. Dean was okay with the idea. Castiel grabbed the tube of lube again, trickling more onto Dean and massaging it into the soft skin, holding the base of Dean’s penis as he moved into position above his lover, straddling Dean’s torso and embracing the sensation of power that came from knowing Dean was open to this idea. That Dean was his. What else would Dean do for him?

Castiel slowly lowered himself onto Dean, unable to avoid short, sharp breaths audibly escaping his lips, and a small whine as he bore down. He had been right, Dean was thick, his girth was more than the plug, that had been nothing in comparison. But he had asked for this, and he was going to make it happen. The lube was helping slightly. Castiel was aware of a strange squelching noise as he tried to coax Dean inside of him.

‘Cas? Are you okay?’ Dean bit out, his teeth clenched tighter than before. Castiel answered without thinking.

‘Yes, Dean. I used the plug before the oral sex.’

Dean didn’t respond to Castiel’s slip, or else he wasn’t surprised that there was a butt plug in amongst Castiel’s purchases. Either way, it failed to matter, because Castiel finally managed to fit around Dean, sliding down on him slowly, groaning in relief and a strange sense of fulfilment as he did. The sensation was unusual, and overwhelming, and Castiel couldn’t fight the loud groan that seemed to erupt from his stomach as Dean filled him completely. And then something changed with Dean. He stopped moving, stopped flexing, he lay still, dragging in deep breaths as something warm filled Castiel, beyond Dean’s penis. He moved his mouth into a wince, finally unclenching his teeth, as the angel tried to understand why Dean had stopped participating. He had encouraged Castiel to proceed, after all.

‘Sorry, Cas,’ he eventually spoke, still sounding short of breath. Castiel pulled himself off of Dean’s shaft, watching for a moment as the final spurts of liquid trickled out of the hunter. Castiel made his way back to the top of the bed, and gently removed the tie from Dean’s eyes, pulling it off of his head as the hunter blinked furiously, his mouth falling open as he forced his eyes open. It was so confusingly human, and Castiel was sure he was falling in love all over again. He forced himself not to kiss Dean, though the urge was strong, and instead spoke softly, not wanting to upset Dean. 

‘Was that meant to happen?’

Dean definitely winced that time, before explaining himself.

‘No. I’m sorry, Cas, I’ve been good to go all day, I just couldn’t fight it any more. It’ll be better next time, okay? I promise.’

Castiel nodded, taking Dean’s explanation at face value, and toying with his short, spiky hair, as he gazed at Dean in utter adoration. He felt the need to reassure his lover that he wasn’t offended. He’d felt the tension from the hunter all day, after all, and he’d been the one to prolong their contact, to take his time and make it harder for Dean.

‘I still enjoyed it.’

‘Me too.’

Dean’s response was a pleasant surprise. He was really okay with being bound and ravaged by Castiel? The angel beamed, wanting more clarification. What could he get away with next time?

‘Even this?’ Castiel stroked the handcuffs, feeling Dean’s cool, clammy skin within the metal loops. ‘Even though I was in charge?’

‘Yeah. It drove me crazy not knowing what you were going to do, but it was kind of exciting, too.’

‘I liked trying to figure out what you would enjoy.’

He felt bashful, talking like this with Dean. Neither of them were in their comfort zone, considering Dean disliked discussing his emotions and Castiel was unused to human interactions. And yet, this conversation felt natural to Castiel, effortless. Like there was nothing standing between them. It was everything Castiel had been wanting.

‘I was trying to figure out how you knew all that stuff.’ Dean smirked, and Castiel leaned down to kiss Dean softly, their lips barely catching at each other, and then he released Dean’s hands, intending to massage some warmth back into them. Dean wrapped his them around Castiel instead, pressing them close together, kissing him more persistently. Castiel wanted to respond before they got carried away further, while Dean still seemed willing to discuss the state of their relationship.

‘I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, Dean. I’ve never done this with anyone else before.’ He felt nervous vocalising this, even though the hunter had to know it was the truth. Back in the earlier days of their relationship, when it was still an innocent friendship, Dean had tried to encourage Castiel’s love life. But even then, he’d known that only Dean would do.

‘I haven’t done this with a guy before.’ Dean shrugged, as though it was no big deal. Or was he trying to give Castiel a compliment? The angel wished he could interpret Dean correctly. He decided to act like Dean was being kind.

‘Well, I’m glad I could be your first for that. Why me? Why when you’ve always been promiscuous with women?’

Dean’s brow furrowed for a moment, and Castiel waited patiently for the response, hoping Dean would treat it with the same seriousness he was giving the rest of the conversation.

‘I don’t know, Cas. Because I’d do anything for you?’

‘I’d do anything for you too, Dean.’

Dean squeezed his arms around Castiel, as though he were acknowledging the angel’s words, despite not having a response.

‘You wanna do the bondage thing again?’ Dean asked suddenly. Castiel nodded shyly.

‘If that’s okay with you?’

Dean nodded, and Castiel smiled back, before laying on Dean’s chest, tracing a finger around the anti-possession tattoo. Dean was surprisingly okay with so much of their relationship. How could he ever have doubted that they were meant to be?

‘Dean?’ Castiel muttered, feeling suddenly shy. He wanted to tell Dean so many things, but he was still worried that Dean would withdraw a little. He could be so unpredictably human.

‘Mmm?’

‘I feel complete in a very strange way, being like this with you.’

Dean didn’t respond, except to stroke a finger along the back of Castiel’s upper arm, and Castiel felt the compulsion to explain himself. Dean’s actions had been so unpredictable that Castiel felt confident in voicing his own emotions.

‘I mean, I never noticed anything missing, exactly, and then we bonded and I felt this ache all the time, and now I know I was just waiting to connect like this with you. Its like we’re soul mates, although I don’t have a soul, obviously. Could a soul and a grace be separated, somehow? I think ours were, if they could be. You’re worth the fall, Dean. You’re worth everything.’

Dean still didn’t respond, and Castiel tilted his head back, looking at his boyfriend, who was once again asleep. Castiel sighed, wondering how much Dean had heard, or how much it really mattered, when Dean wouldn’t remember a thing when he woke up in the morning.


	10. Chapter 10

Castiel erased Dean’s memory feeling more conflicted than ever before. The night had gone well, Dean had been desperate for physical contact, and Castiel wasn’t sure but he might have been complimented on how okay he was in his performance. He knew there was a diminishing reason for him to continue wiping Dean’s memory of their relationship. He wanted Dean to remember, he wanted to get passed the awkward first moments and take things further. The only justification he could come up with this time for erasing Dean’s memory was that Dean had seemed ashamed when he had climaxed early. Castiel had decided that was as worthy a reason as any to remove the previous day. Castiel wouldn’t hold it against him, but Dean had a habit of beating himself up for the smallest of excuses. Next time, he would pay attention, and not tease Dean so much before intercourse. Next time, his boyfriend would come before showing off.

Castiel wanted to lay with Dean, to rest his head on the hunter’s chest and listen to his heart beating steadily, but with Dean’s memory erased, it would be a risky manoeuvre. Instead he hid all of the toys back in his safe place, and went walking through the bunker, thinking about what to do next to secure their relationship. At least, he did until he heard someone summoning him.

He should have expected this, from the moment he saw them in the movie theatre. From the moment Meg told him that everyone was aware of Dean’s failing memory. And yet he felt completely unprepared for what was to come. He could only do his best to protect the Winchesters, however he needed to do that. He vanished from the bunker, reappearing moments later on a barren hillside, where one angel stood, her hair whipping around her face, her coat picking up in the strong wind surrounding them, and yet she seemed wholly unbothered by the weather.

She looked different to how she had appeared in the movie theatre, or just outside where she watched Dean’s onslaught of Castiel with distaste. Castiel knew she had been borrowing a vessel at the time, a young male, instead of the elder woman that was her true vessel.

‘Castiel,’ she nodded curtly. Castiel merely stood in front of her, trying to wear a poker face. They both let the silence drag on for far too long. ‘How is Dean Winchester?’

It was the wrong question. How was Castiel meant to answer? She had seen them kissing, she had heard the things that Dean whispered in the dark. She knew that they had a strong connection, and she would have known that without having witnessed it first hand. Ever since Castiel had pulled Dean from the pit, the other angels whispered about their connection. It had been part of Castiel’s downfall.

‘Castiel, please, talk to me. We used to be so close.’ She pressed her lips together, her laughter lines highlighted even in this small action. And Castiel felt torn. It was true, they were friends before they were split into their different garrisons, but that was several millennia ago. They had been given different assignments, and grown far apart, and then there had been Dean …

‘You’re taking a human vessel now?’ Castiel asked eventually. ‘What of the cat organisation?’

‘I’ve been reassigned. I’m part of a team looking for renegade angels. You might call it a promotion.’

‘I would. Fur balls don’t sound particularly pleasant.’

‘No. They aren’t. But nor are angels who go against orders.’

Castiel paused before responding. If what she was saying were accurate, she wouldn’t be alone when confronting him.

‘Vibeke, you’re going against orders to talk to me now. Will someone come for you?’

It was the wrong thing to say.

‘Do you think I don’t have clearance? I’ve made my appeals for this conversation, Castiel! They know our history, they know I know you better than most angels. I told them you would respond better if you weren’t outnumbered. Your little date with your pet human proved that beyond a doubt.’

So that was why there were four of them the night before, not taking any action. Castiel bristled at the way she dismissed Dean so easily, and decided to make Vibeke’s job even harder.

‘So what happens now?’

‘Now? Now you stop, Castiel. You leave Dean Winchester alone.’

‘What happens if I decide not to do that? What if Dean’s more important?’

Vibeke laughed.

‘Please, Castiel. You can stop pretending with me. I know how tough it is for you to be with anyone.’

Castiel looked away, trying to block the memories of two young angels, a pushy, black-haired girl and a shy, dark-haired boy, and her insistence that they were made for each other. The elder angels had said it, she’d insisted, but he had never felt it. Even when she stole his first kiss, he felt nothing but friendship there. It was nothing at all compared to the emotions that stirred in Dean’s presence. He could hear the Winchester’s praying to him, and repeated himself, his voice taking a harder edge.

‘What happens if I pick Dean?’

‘You know what happens.’ Vibeke answered cryptically. Castiel shrugged and met her eyes again.

‘And yet, I pick him.’

‘What if he doesn’t pick you?’

‘That’s my burden to bear, I guess. But I know Dean better than you do, Vibeke.’

Vibeke approached him carefully, placing her hands upon his shoulders.

‘Time will tell that, Castiel. And please, don’t think I’m not rooting for you to get past this. I will fight for you in Heaven, Castiel. But not for him.’

Castiel scowled, but before he could give another indignant response, Vibeke closed the distance between them, kissing him gently. He pushed her away.

‘It’s never going to happen, Vibeke.’

‘You’re going to Fall? For him?’

Castiel wrestled his shoulders away, stepping back and preparing to zap out.

‘I don’t know how you missed it, Vibeke. I already did.’

He zapped back into the bunker, before Vibeke could make him feel worse, and listened for the sounds of Dean and Sam. The bunker was silent. Castiel went tearing through the hallways until he reached Dean’s room, where the pink handcuffs lay on the bedsheets, and a few condoms were strewn on the floor. It was otherwise neat, and organised, the way Dean liked the room. The way Castiel liked the room. But it left little by way of clues for where Dean could be, and right then Castiel wanted nothing more than to fall into Dean’s arms and be reassured that Vibeke was wrong. He closed his eyes, and tried to concentrate on where Dean could possibly be, as though their connection was in some way corporeal and a viable means of finding each other. And then he zapped out again, relying on faith alone.

Somehow, it worked, and he found himself in a field with the brothers, their car parked close by, and Dean was snapping at Sam.

‘… know better than this, Sam!’ Dean was spitting, his back to Castiel as he squared up to his taller brother. Sam seemed upset, and Castiel wondered what could have led to them standing in a field, screaming at each other.

‘Maybe-‘ Sam began, and then paused as he noticed Castiel. Dean whipped around, his expression stony, the bags under his eyes heavy. He seemed weary to Castiel, who just wanted to take away some of the emotional load Dean insisted on carrying.

‘Hey, you okay Cas?’ His tone was harsh, and Castiel tried not to take offence at it. He’d been arguing with his brother, and that always made Dean tense. But physical contact seemed to calm Dean down, so Castiel felt justified in stroking his arm gently, trying to appeal to the side of Dean that had agreed to date him. His reaction was jarring. ‘Dude!’

Cas blinked in his confusion as Dean pulled his arm back, his expression a mix of confusion and angry. Dean had never once, in the entire time they’d been having their first dates, reacted badly to him. Had Vibeke messed with Dean at some point that Castiel was unaware of? Had she sent someone to intervene as they had talked? Had someone gotten to his Dean? Sam approached tentatively, but Castiel was once again less concerned with the younger Winchester. It was hard to be, when the love of his life was right in front of him, reacting negatively to his touch.

‘Dean? Is everything okay?’

Dean merely frowned at Castiel, as Sam joined them.

‘Dean’s memory is messed up, Cas. Worse than before-‘

‘I’m right here, Sam!’

Castiel looked over in time to see Sam roll his eyes, before concentrating all his attention on the angel.

‘I don’t think he remembers stuff for a couple of weeks. He thinks I’m joking about the two of you.’

Dean folded his arms, glaring at Sam.

‘That’s not funny, Sam. It stopped being funny about five seconds after you started it.’

Sam continued talking to Castiel as though Dean were not interrupting.

‘At first, I thought you’d fallen out, and then he kept reacting like this. But his memory lately has been bad, and I figured maybe it was just getting worse. I just wish I knew what was causing it.’

Castiel tried to keep his features straight, and not react to what Sam was telling him. He didn’t want Sam to work out that he was the cause of Dean’s poor memory. Instead, he relented slightly, and decided to give Dean something back. He needed it himself right then, that blazing look in Dean’s eyes that threatened to consume Castiel.

‘I don’t know what’s causing it, Sam, but maybe I could get something back.’

Sam looked relieved, and Dean angry.

‘I don’t need help! I’m _fine_ , Cas!’

‘What’s the last thing you remember?’ Castiel insisted, looking at Dean.

‘I don’t know, we were laughing about something in a motel room. Sam was asleep already.’

Castiel bit his lower lip, worrying. As soon as they began discussing a relationship, their conversations had turned serious. Dean couldn’t remember any of their agreement. But Castiel had been careful to only erase the day.

‘Were we talking about salad?’ Castiel dropped his voice, aware Sam could hear him. They hadn’t been mocking Sam, exactly, but neither of them understood his fascination with salad.

‘Why would we talk about salad? Except-‘ Dean’s eyes flickered to Sam, and understanding seemed to blossom there. He turned back to Castiel. ‘Yeah, that makes sense.’

Sam shook his head, and Castiel stepped closer to Dean, hoping that there wouldn’t be a problem between the brothers over one small conversation.

‘Dean, you’ve lost weeks. I’m going to try to get it back, okay?’

Dean looked ready to protest, but Castiel stepped forward and pressed two firm fingers to his forehead before he could. As Dean fell into an unwanted sleep, Sam stepped forward and grabbed his brother before he crumpled to the ground. Castiel pressed closer to the hunter, placing his fingertips on Dean’s temples, and Sam spoke up once more.

‘You were laughing about me eating salad all the time?’

‘It’s a little more complicated than that. And it was more about salad than about you.’

‘Well, that makes me feel better.’ Sam sighed. ‘Can you do it? Get all his memories back?’

‘I can try. Give me some time.’

‘Can I put him down first? He’s real heavy when he’s asleep, Cas.’

Castiel nodded, shucking off his trench coat and balling it up as Sam lowered his brother to the grass-covered ground. Castiel put his coat underneath Dean’s head, and touched his temples once more, breathing deeply and trying to concentrate on the images that came through, of the last few weeks where Dean and Castiel began to cement their relationship. How much could he give back to Dean? Dean would realise that Castiel had been resetting his memories, and Castiel couldn’t imagine how he would react. But he had to give something back. He wished he could hear Dean’s thoughts in the memories, to know when to cut it off, but he wasn’t blessed with that kind of power. Instead, he got to the day before their paintball excursion, and reset the dates. Then he allowed the day before to come back, the day when Dean wanted nothing but him. The day they had explored their physical relationship to a degree Castiel couldn’t begin to conceive before. Would that be enough? He couldn’t influence Dean’s opinions or emotions from the past, all he could do was hope that it would work out for the best.

He withdrew his fingers from Dean’s temples, and Sam, who had remained quiet as Castiel worked, finally spoke up.

‘Should we wake him up?’

‘He’s going to be disoriented, Sam. We should leave him to rest.’

‘We think there’s demons in the area, Cas. It’s not safe out here.’

Castiel turned slowly to the younger Winchester.

‘There’s been no demons here.’ He could feel that very clearly. But Sam wasn’t aware that there had been angels in the vicinity, and Castiel was already sick of the other angels.

‘Still, how long will he be out? We’re trying to work a case.’

Castiel shrugged.

‘We’ll drive him to your motel room, he can come around in there.’

‘We haven’t found a place yet.’

Castiel sighed, and looked at Dean again, noting how peaceful he looked in his sleep. He didn’t want to ruin it, but he knew Sam was going to keep pressing the issue until Dean was awake, whatever that did to his elder brother. Castiel would never fully understand their connection, though he knew that Dean would appreciate it if he acted on Sam’s request, at least a little. So he pressed his fingers to Dean’s forehead once again, and watched as Dean began to stir. Dean’s eyes blinked open, and Castiel felt an ache in his chest, around his heart. It was like watching Dean wake up in the morning, where Dean was so vulnerable, so unaffected by the problems that life brought, at least for a moment. Castiel gave him a watery smile, as Dean’s eyes became focused.

‘Where’d you go?’

Castiel frowned, surveying Dean with concern. Had he done something wrong? Had he somehow wiped out that days events, trying to grasp those memories back? He answered as though Sam wasn’t there. Sam didn’t exist for Castiel at that moment in time.

‘I’ve been right here, Dean.’

‘This morning. I woke up without you.’ Dean blinked again. ‘Where’d you stash everything?’

Castiel smiled, without really following what Dean was referring to, and before he could ask Dean to explain what he meant, Sam interrupted their moment.

‘So? Do you remember everything now?’

‘Everything important.’ Dean winked up at Castiel, who looked away, unable to lie, even by omission. Every moment they were together was important, and Dean only knew the bare facts. Sam missed the moment between the two of them, and went on with his own agenda.

‘Good. I vote we go talk to Rebecca, find out what’s going on. Her articles were solid, I don’t understand …’

‘Yeah, fine, we’ll do that. Can I just have a minute with Cas?’

Castiel looked around, and saw Dean staring at him with that desperate look in his eyes. The entire reason he gave the day before back to Dean. Castiel was aware of Sam stomping away, and then Dean was trying to sit up. Castiel lowered him back down, his hand lingering on Dean’s chest.

‘Don’t rush it. How are you feeling?’

‘Fine, Cas. Hey, what’s up? Are you pissed I forgot about us?’

Castiel needed to work harder to hide his feelings from Dean.

‘No, Dean. You couldn’t help that. I just wanted to help.’

‘I know. So why do you look like I killed your puppy?’

How was Dean able to work out Castiel’s emotions so quickly? Castiel was still smarting from his encounter with Vibeke, and then learning that Dean didn’t remember their relationship was another huge blow. He hadn’t realised that his disappointment and upset was evident on his face. He answered in his normal way, sure that Dean would see through the facade.

‘I don’t have a puppy.’

Dean looked exasperated. Castiel was right, he hadn’t fooled him at all.

‘Cas-‘

‘It’s nothing, Dean. I’m just worn out from trying to look through your mind. I was trying to avoid invading your privacy.’

Dean swallowed this lie.

‘Did you see what I saw?’

Castiel nodded, and tried to reassure Dean that he hadn’t fully invaded Dean’s privacy.

‘But not your thoughts, nor your emotions. Just the images. Which was difficult when you were blindfolded.’

Castiel smiled at his own joke, and Dean gazed back at him, his eyes full of lust, before he sat up, surprising Castiel with a kiss. Castiel wound his fingers around Dean’s neck, sinking happily into the feeling of the hunter’s lips, as Dean rested a hand on his waistband, his touch as tentative as their kiss. Castiel was lost in Dean’s gentle touch, his mind repeating _Dean is mine_ like a mantra. He wondered what Dean was thinking about as they kissed. His eyes flickered open, and he saw, just behind Dean, Sam leaning against the Impala, watching the two of them as they made out like teenagers.

‘Dean, Sam’s watching us,’ he murmured, not straying too far from Dean’s mouth. He felt the corners of Dean’s lips twist up as he responded.

‘Pervert.’

‘I think he wants us to go. Who is this Rebecca?’

Sam had mentioned Rebecca as though she would be familiar to Dean, though Castiel had never heard of the woman.

‘His girlfriend. He met her online. He got this case from her. I think she’s possessed. Or worse.’

Castiel sighed, knowing that if this Rebecca person were possessed, it was important to exorcise her as soon as possible. He pressed one final, lingering kiss against Dean’s lips, and rested his forehead against Dean’s.

‘We should go. He looks upset.’

‘Stop checking out my brother.’

Castiel heard the humour in Dean’s voice, but he was worried that there was an insecure undertone too. He tried his best to reassure his lover.

‘I would never. We should take him to Rebecca. We’re more likely to get time to ourselves that way.’

Dean nodded, and scooted back, turning and seeing the trench coat in a neatly folded pile, complete with head-shaped dent.

‘Hey, your jacket. Why’s it there?’

‘I was protecting your head from the ground.’

Castiel reached over and grabbed it, feeling mocked without knowing how or why. He stood up, and reached a hand out for Dean, aware still that the memory manipulation might have had an effect on his head. Dean allowed him to help him up, keeping a hold of Castiel’s hands. They approached Sam with their fingers laced together, both of them ignoring his cocked eyebrow. Dean spoke up when they got near to the front grate.

‘Cas has shot gun.’

‘Oh, come on, Dean!’ Sam immediately protested. Dean shrugged, and squeezed Castiel’s fingers before letting go, and climbing into the driver’s seat. Castiel exchanged an awkward look with Sam. On one hand, Castiel was Dean’s boyfriend, but on the other, Sam normally sat in the front seat.

‘It’s okay Sam, you can sit with him. I like the back seat.’

‘It’s fine, Cas. He’s probably shaken about the whole memory thing. And I could do with some shut-eye before we get to Rebecca’s place. It’s about an hour away.’  
Castiel knew that Sam was just being nice, and making excuses. And he really wanted to sit alongside Dean, he wanted that closeness, so he stopped being polite, and climbed in, hoping Sam would pass it off as his typical naivety. Dean started the ignition and drove slowly across the uneven ground, the car stereo playing one of the old tapes that had at first scared Castiel, yet now felt familiar, and safe. Like Dean.

A few minutes passed, and Castiel spent the time staring out of the windscreen, thinking about Vibeke, and what he was going to do. She had never understood why he had refused her advances, and he was sure that was why she was so bitter about Dean, but that couldn’t influence the way Castiel was going to be treated by the other angels … could it?

‘Is Sam asleep?’ Dean broke the quiet, and brought Castiel back to reality. He turned around and looked at the back seat, where Sam was folded uncomfortably, his arms cross, eyes closed, and mouth hanging open slightly. His breathing was slow and steady, unpunctuated by his normal snores. But Castiel could sense that Sam wasn’t conscious.

‘It appears so.’

‘Come here,’ Dean stretched an arm along the front bench, and Castiel scooted over happily, dropping a hand on Dean’s thigh as he rested his head on Dean’s shoulder, feeling the hunter relax as he did. Castiel was astounded by how close they seemed at that moment, how normal and everyday, like all the humans he had studied over the years. It made his chest ache, how easily they fit together. Why would the other angels want their relationship over? He needed to let Dean know, in some way, how he felt, so he reached up, kissing Dean’s chin. Dean smiled, and Castiel took that as permission to carry on, so he tried to kiss his boyfriend properly, on his full lips. The hunter pulled back, eyes focused on the stretch of asphalt before them.

‘Come on, Cas. I need to be able to see the road.’

‘Your mouth is so kissable.’ Castiel resented how breathless and needy he sounded.

‘So’s yours, but come on, you were the one who said to get to Rebecca’s place, and then we’d have us-time quicker.’

‘So no kissing?’

‘No kissing, not while I’m driving.’

Castiel wasn’t defeated yet.

‘But other things?’

Dean frowned, and shrugged.

‘So long as I can still drive.’

‘So this is fine?’ Castiel squeezed the leg he was holding, watching as another smile traced Dean’s mouth.

‘Mmm-hmmm.’

‘And this?’ He kissed along Dean’s neck.

‘Yeah, you can do that.’

Castiel understood the boundaries that Dean was setting. Nothing in front of Dean’s face. He could work around that. Spurned on by a newly-churning feeling in his chest, he slipped his other hand up Dean’s shirt. His only reaction was to let out a slow breath, and stare at the road ahead. Castiel traced his fingers down Dean’s skin, and when he got to the button on Dean’s jeans, he got an idea. He was going to Hell anyway, when the other angels were done with him. He started working the button open, and heard Dean’s breath catch.

‘Cas-‘

‘Shhhhh. Stay quiet.’

He pulled the zipper down slowly, sliding his hand between the tight denim and Dean’s thin cotton boxers, feeling the heat of Dean’s penis through the flimsy material as he caressed it, noticing the way it jumped at his touch. Castiel nibbled at the hunter’s jawline, as Dean let out another slow, controlled breath. The angel decided that he would take control again, to see what his boyfriend would do. Dean was usually so in control, and yet with Castiel …

‘We don’t want to wake up Sam, right?’

Dean exhaled shakily, and nodded before swallowing noisily. Already putty in Castiel’s hands. The angel worked the front portion of the waistband on Dean’s underpants, freeing his penis and stroking along it with the flat of his palm. The hunter groaned involuntarily, flexing his hips into Castiel’s hand.

’Shhhhh!’ Castiel whispered as loudly as he dared. He didn’t know how Sam would take it if he found them in the act. He kissed quickly down Dean’s chest and stomach, the hunter raising his hips off the bench, trying to give Castiel more room to manoeuvre. But he didn’t want the extra room, there was something in the idea of being cramped between Dean’s stomach and the steering wheel that caught Castiel’s imagination.

He started licking, taking his time, savouring the taste of Dean, aware of Dean’s suppressed noises of pleasure, and the way he was going along with what Castiel wanted. How could this be wrong? He slid his mouth over the shaft, feeling the jolt that travelled through Dean, and the way his upper body strained to keep the wheel straightened.

‘Cas,’ Dean panted, his voice low, trying to keep the volume down. Castiel didn’t want to remove his mouth, so he lifted his hand and waved a finger for a moment, before returning all his attention to Dean’s groin, where he sucked and licked against the tender skin, working his hand into Dean’s boxers, finding the sensitive skin between his testicles and butt, and massaging it as he worked on Dean.

And then Dean was coming, hot and thick down Castiel’s throat, as Dean made an odd whining sound. As soon as the flow stopped, Castiel drew himself up and off his lover, looking at his handiwork as there was a noise from the backseat. He bobbed his head up, checking on Sam as quickly as he dared. Sam had unfolded his arms, and was beginning to rub his eyes with the heels of his palm. Castiel thought quickly. He could just zap Dean’s underwear and jeans back together, but he was worried about causing Dean any pain. Instead, he moved with lightning fast reflexes, putting Dean back away, zipping him up again, twisting the button closed, and reaching up for a swift kiss on Dean’s jaw before cuddling back in. The hunter pressed an arm around Castiel, holding him close, as though all they had done throughout Sam’s nap was mirror a Hallmark couple. In the backseat, Sam stretched and yawned.

‘Are we nearly there?’ Sam asked at the end of the yawn, and Castiel felt something on his upper lip, something wet. Dean answered, his voice steady, giving nothing away.

‘About five minutes from the town.’

‘Okay.’

They could hear Sam rustling papers and Castiel wiped a finger on the wet spot, licking it quickly as Dean pressed a kiss onto his head, through his hair. Were the other angels watching? Would they understand the significance of that kind of action, or overlook it on the fact that Castiel had oral sex with a human? With Dean Winchester, of all people? They drove through the town, with the angel worrying silently, as the brothers scoured the neighbourhood.

‘That’s her house,’ Sam broke the silence, waving his hand over Cas’ head, pointing at a house just ahead of them. He sat back as Dean pulled up, and Cas sat up reluctantly, as Dean turned to his bother.

‘You okay, man?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. You’re coming too, right? Both of you?’

Castiel didn’t understand why Sam was so reticent to meet the girl that Dean had described as his girlfriend, but Dean was, as ever, completely compassionate to his younger brother’s needs.

‘Sure. Lets go.’ Dean climbed out of the car, and Castiel scrabbled to join him, while Sam slid out of the backseat. They walked together through the uniform front yard, and up the small flight of porch steps. Sam rang the doorbell and smoothed his hair back in a nervous tic, and Castiel stepped closer to Dean, their arms grazing as they stood back slightly, letting Sam wait in front of the door. It opened, and a petite blonde woman stepped forwards. Castiel watched as her expression altered several times within a second. From surprise to elation, then to doubt and fear. Castiel looked at Dean, wondering if he would be able to interpret her reaction properly, but he was staring at Sam. And Sam was the first one to speak.

‘B-Becky?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm now on a writing hiatus due to GISHWHES, this story may not be updated for another 3 weeks minimum. Sorry!


	11. Chapter 11

Castiel felt uncomfortable as they stood outside the woman’s house, while she stared at Sam as though he’d seen a ghost. Dean turned to look at him quickly, but turned away before Castiel could read what was in his eyes. Eventually, the woman called Rebecca spoke, her voice sounding desperate and pleading, which Castiel hadn’t been expecting. Wasn’t this Sam’s new girlfriend?

‘Did I do something wrong? Are you looking into those demonic signs? Because my friend was already here, looking into them. Please, don’t hurt me. I went to someone else, okay?’

The atmosphere was tense, and Castiel didn’t know what to make of the things the woman had blurted out. It sounded, almost, like she knew who Sam and Dean were, and that she hadn’t considered the fact that the man she had been talking to could have been one of them. From the look on Sam’s face that Castiel had noticed, he also hadn’t considered the idea that this woman could have been his internet friend either.

‘You’re Rebecca?’ Sam demanded, and the woman took shelter behind the door, though Castiel noted that she didn’t slam it closed. He realised that, although she was scared of what could be revealed, she wanted to know what had happened to lead the Winchesters and an angel to her door.

‘Okay, so you’ve been talking to him. To Jared. But he couldn’t have known, he didn’t-‘

‘Becky. Can we come in?’ Sam interrupted. Her gaze zeroed in on Castiel, and Castiel felt uncomfortable by the attention.

‘Are you him? Are you Jared?’

Castiel didn’t understand. What was a Jared? Sam took charge, striding forward, opening the door wider and stepping over the threshold, speaking as he walked.

‘We’re having this conversation inside.’

Sam pushed past Rebecca into the house, and Castiel saw the expression she gave Dean, as though he were responsible for Sam’s actions and could explain his behaviour. And then she turned around, following Sam into the house and Castiel looked to Dean for a prompt as to what to do. Dean stood for a moment, tapping his fingers against his thigh, before walking into the house as well. Castiel followed quickly, keeping his voice low.

‘What did she call me?’

Dean turned around to reply, stalling in the hallway.

‘Jared. Jared Paradonkey. I think Sam’s been using a fake name with her. We’ll just stay quiet, okay? This is their problem, not ours.’

Castiel felt distant from Dean then, just for a moment. He wanted to know, as automatically as Dean did, things like that. He made an effort to shrug off that feeling, touching his fingers to Dean’s lightly, stepping forward to press his mouth against Dean’s ear, feeling waves of heat coming from the hunter, enjoying the roughness of the callouses on his fingers and the scratch of Dean’s stubble as he came into contact with both.

‘And then we’ll find some place where you don’t have to be quiet at all.’

Dean shivered against him, and Castiel laughed in delight that he’d caused that reaction, though somehow he managed to keep his laughter quiet, as though he and Dean were sharing a private joke. He knew Dean would have been grateful for that, because whatever was going on between Sam and this Rebecca, it seemed to be serious, and laughing loudly would have upset Sam, and then upset Dean, which was the last thing Castiel wanted.

He followed Dean into the next room, where his lover pulled him onto the sofa separating the two chairs that Sam and Rebecca were already occupying. Castiel stayed close, without touching, his hunter, knowing that Dean would not want to be distracted if Sam needed his input. For a fleeting moment, Castiel felt like Sam was the other woman in Dean’s life, the person stopping his boyfriend from fully committing. And then the moment was gone, because after all, Castiel and Sam were friends too, and this Rebecca could take Dean’s mind off his brother as much, give Dean more time to consider the angel. Rebecca was a good thing.

‘You’re Jared?’ Rebecca asked, her voice pitching as she stared at Sam. Castiel wondered if either of them had even noticed himself or Dean. He felt a perverse need to pounce on Dean, to kiss him and touch him in a way he would never agree on in front of his brother, just to see if they would garner any attention. Sam was smoothing his hair down with his hands.

‘I was trying not to get tapped by anyone else. I wanted to tell you my real name, but it was risky. And since when do you go by Rebecca?’

Rebecca frowned, her mouth pouting slightly as she answered, her tone pointed.

‘Since I had to re-evaluate my life after I nearly made a deal with a crossroads demon.’

There was a silence that seemed to fill the room after Rebecca said that. It seemed uncomfortable, and Castiel couldn’t understand why. Unless Sam and Dean were concerned with the deal that Rebecca almost made? They seemed to know what she was referring to. Castiel could at least tell that Rebecca hadn’t made the deal. He wondered idly what she would have tried to barter for, as Dean started speaking.

‘Why’d you pick Jared Padackles anyway?’

Castiel looked at Dean, grateful for the excuse to do so.

‘That’s not how you said it outside.’ He tried to flirt. Dean grinned back, letting Castiel spur him on.

‘Yeah well, it’s Polish or something. Padacockles?’

‘Padalecki.’ Sam’s tone put an end to the banter, though he still answered Dean, albeit grudgingly. ‘I don’t know, because online dating was out of the ordinary for me, and so was that universe?’ Sam turned back to Rebecca, his expression softening slightly. ‘Okay, so you didn’t know it was me. But you could have let me know it was you.’  
Rebecca tucked her hands underneath her thighs, squaring her shoulders and sighing loudly.

‘I’m not the same Becky, okay Sam? What you said to me, when we were married, it got to me. Like I said, I re-evaluated my life. And besides, what difference would it make? Or do you gossip with all your hunter buddies?’

Castiel looked at Dean the moment Rebecca said the word “married”. Sam had been married to this woman? Why had Dean not mentioned it outside? Castiel felt he could have said something before they walked in. He understood, on a very basic level, how there could be so much tension between Sam and Rebecca, but he was disappointed. Rebecca seemed like a pure soul, a well-meaning person, she didn’t deserve the hostility that Castiel could feel emanating from Dean and Sam.

Rebecca pulled a hand out from under her leg, pointing at Castiel, nearly accidentally catching Dean’s face as she carried on speaking.

‘And who is this guy, anyway?’

‘Castiel.’ Sam answered abruptly, as though Rebecca would instantly know who he was. Castiel saw her eyes widen, her mouth pull, and he realised that she did know something. Was it something Sam had shared when they were married? Why were they not married now? Sam interrupted Castiel’s musings. ‘But can we not go off topic here?’

There was another awkward silence, loaded with an emotion Castiel couldn’t fully interpret. Dean was once again the first person to break the quiet by turning to Sam and attempting to sound jovial.

‘So … should Cas and me go and find a motel or something? You come and find us later?’

Rebecca answered, slightly sullenly.

‘You can stay here. There’s nowhere to stay around here, not really. I promise, no funny business. My spare room’s upstairs, second door on the left. First one’s the bathroom. One of you can take the couch, it’s a sofa bed. And whoever’s left will have to make do with an air bed-‘

‘I don’t sleep,’ Castiel interrupted her. ‘It’s fine.’

Rebecca looked at him curiously, as though his lack of sleep had sparked her interest, but she didn’t ask him any questions, remaining firm and polite. Castiel felt disappointed that she wasn’t letting the sunny personality he could sense show. He wanted to talk to her more, without Dean and Sam making her feel that she had to compromise herself.

‘Well, if it’s okay, I’d appreciate you and Dean giving me and Sam a little bit of space here. If that’s okay?’

She was looking at Sam, and Castiel understood that before he could talk with this woman, she had to try to clear the air with Sam, at least a little. And there was the opportunity to do so, if they were all staying in her house. Dean patted Castiel’s knee, distracting him from Rebecca as he savoured the feel of Dean’s warm palm through his slacks.

‘Come on, find the spare room with me.’ Dean said in a low voice, before turning to Rebecca, talking to her in an unusually terse way. ‘No poisoning us as we sleep, or chaining us down, or being weird with my brother-‘

Castiel didn’t quite understand why Dean felt the need to make such threats, and nor, it seemed, did Sam, as he interrupted Dean’s big brother routine in a clipped voice.

‘Dean.’

Dean immediately stopped, nodded once, and grabbed Castiel’s sleeve, standing up and walking out of the room, knowing that Castiel would willingly follow. The angel let Dean navigate up the stairs, and into the room that Rebecca had indicated, the door closed behind them, before he began voicing his surprise at the conversation they had just witnessed.

‘Sam was _married_?’

Dean looked around at Castiel, rolling his eyes.

‘It’s a long story, Cas.’

Castiel just stared at his lover, who slid his arms around Castiel’s waist, stepping close and resting their foreheads against one another. Castiel appreciated the gesture, the sense of intimacy, but he didn’t want to be distracted by Dean’s physicality. He kept his own arms limp by his sides, knowing that Dean would notice. It worked, as Dean rushed an explanation.

‘It was only for a couple of weeks, and he was given some kind of love potion. Some demon was working on Becky. As soon as the stuff wore off, he got it annulled. There’s nothing to tell.’

Castiel wanted to press for more details, like how a demon could get their hands on love potion, what could possibly have happened to make Rebecca feel the need to administer it to Sam, why Sam wouldn’t give such a sweet girl a chance after the potion had worn off. But he had a feeling that Dean disliked the girl. Besides, it was probably best to ask her for the details. Castiel stuck to the basics.

‘When did it happen?’

Dean began grazing Castiel’s hip, caressing it with his palm, as though he was hoping he could distract Castiel from his thoughts by becoming sexual. If Castiel had been a lesser being, he considered, that tactic may have worked. Dean seemed to understand that Castiel wasn’t going to cave to his expert touch.

‘When we thought the Leviathan had killed you. And when we found you, there was too much other stuff going on. Sam’s biggest fan trying to con him seemed like the least important thing to tell.’

Castiel felt bad then, that his silence was pressurising Dean into blurting this information. He must have just forgotten in light of other things. Like when Sam was losing his mind. He stopped resisting Dean so much, pressing his hip against Dean’s palm, which seemed to prompt Dean into speaking again.

‘And anyway, they’re going to be hashing this out for a while, and in the meantime, we have a room to ourselves.’

Dean smirked briefly, before bending his head and kissing Castiel firmly on his mouth. Castiel tentatively stroked his hands up Deans arms, massaging his biceps as the hunter stepped even closer, pressing their bodies together, their lips and tongue moving in a way that was now so familiar, so much a part of them, that Castiel was having trouble remembering a life before Dean would allow him, even encourage him, to have this kind of contact. Dean started bearing down, making Castiel move backwards, as they heard footsteps on the stairs. At the sound, Dean took a step backwards, breaking the kiss off immediately, removing his hands from Castiel’s hips, which still burned from where his touch had been. Castiel wondered if Dean felt guilty, or ashamed on some level. That wasn’t helpful in the face of everything Castiel had to deal with from the other angels.

Rebecca walked into the room, clutching a stack of towels, looking sadly between the two men, and Castiel felt the urge to comfort her, to make her soul shine again somehow. But once again, she remained straight-faced, and talked only about the specifics at hand, rather than anything Castiel was actually curious about.

‘If you need a shower or anything, there’s these. I asked Sam if angels showered, but he didn’t really answer, so there’s enough here for the both of you. Sam said it’s okay if you want to stay in here, he’ll take the sofa bed.’

Castiel felt his heart swell again, over the fact she was concerned about what he would need. And she knew he was an angel, without being surprised about the fact. How could Sam and Dean be so sour towards her? He could feel her watching him as she placed the towels on a chair just inside the room and turned to leave. Dean surprised Castiel when he felt compelled to call out to her as she left.

‘Hey, Becky?’ She turned to look at him sadly, her only acknowledgement of the fact he had spoken. ‘You know, when you’re like this, you’re not so bad.’

She frowned momentarily, before nodding and leaving the room, and Castiel felt a pain in his chest. How could Dean prefer this girl to the one being stifled? Castiel sat on the bed, trying to understand, and failing to do so. He wanted to make it right for Rebecca, somehow. And who knew, maybe the other angels would be more considerate of his choice to be with Dean if he could show that level of compassion.

‘Hey, what’s up?’ Dean broke through his thoughts as he pushed Castiel’s legs apart, standing between them, and grabbing Castiel’s hand to place firmly on his butt. Castiel tried to think how he could express what he was feeling.

‘That girl seems sad.’

‘Well, yeah, I guess.’

Castiel could hear Dean’s confusion, and he knew the hunter didn’t understand how affected he was by Sam’s ex-wife. He tried again.

‘She must have really loved Sam, to try and get him to marry her.’

There was a pause as Castiel realised that Dean might have misunderstood that as a hint. In reality, Castiel had no real opinions about matrimony, he was merely grateful to have Dean as a lover.

‘Maybe.’ Dean’s answer was abrupt, but then he began scratching a Castiel’s scalp again, dragging his fingers along lazily, and Castiel couldn’t help but respond, sinking into his touch, even as Dean carried on talking. ‘But right now, I want to focus on you.’

Castiel felt Dean’s fingers trace around to frame his chin, tilting his face up so that they could kiss again, while one hand was still scratching Castiel’s head. And Castiel was craving Dean just as much, but he felt too upset for Rebecca, who was being kind enough to let them stay over. Of course, Dean noticed.

‘Cas? I’ve been waiting all day for this.’

‘No you haven’t. You only remembered agreeing to go out with me a little over an hour ago, and we already made out and had oral sex.’

Cas didn’t mean to sound so inconsiderate as he spoke, or to argue with Dean. He was preoccupied. Dean stopped trying to kiss him, and spoke slowly, patiently, though Castiel could sense his frustration.

‘Yeah, and Sam was there both times, this is our first chance to be alone. And I wanted you around before you gave me my memories back. Like on some level my body still remembered you.’

Castiel had that thought before, but he didn’t appreciate being reminded of removing Dean’s memories. Was taking them something similar to what Rebecca had done to Sam while he was being administered love potion? And yet Dean was touching him intimately, and Sam was at the very least understanding about their relationship, but he was no better than the woman being treated with borderline contempt. Castiel had never wanted intimacy less with Dean than at the moment he realised that.

‘I think I know how Becky feels.’

Dean seemed taken aback by Castiel speaking his feelings. And then Dean went and made the situation worse.

‘Cas, no. You have me, right? No angel mojo needed, I’m yours.’

If only Dean knew the truth. Castiel sighed, and looked up at the man he loved, trying to keep his expression neutral.

‘You’re right. Sorry.’

And with supreme effort, he raised one hand up off of Dean’s backside, closing his fingers around Dean’s neck and pulling him closer for a kiss, Dean responding instantly, applying all his weight onto Castiel to make him lay down, stretching his legs out so that he was straddling Castiel, their groins rubbing together, Dean’s hand still lost in Castiel’s hair as he worked the scalp. Their breathing became more laboured, and Castiel could already feel Dean’s erection, hard and demanding against his own. Just for once, Castiel wished Dean would express himself verbally, rather than physically. He slid his hands along Dean’s torso, and up against his chest, knowing that the hunter wouldn’t appreciate what Castiel was about to do or say.

He gave a measured push, and managed to lift Dean away from him, just too far out of reach to continue kissing, close enough to avoid rejecting him, or accidentally throwing him across the room. He had to be short and to-the-point.

‘Dean? I’m not in the mood for sex tonight.’

‘I already got that, Cas. But I need some kind of connection.’

Castiel nodded, because of course Dean would see it that way. He lowered Dean back down onto him, but didn’t move his hands from Dean’s chest as their lips met once again. He could feel Dean moving against him, insistent and urgent, could feel in the way Dean’s tongue traced his teeth that the hunter wanted something that, at that moment, Castiel couldn’t manage. He did his best to match Dean’s enthusiasm, but he knew that his lover could sense the difference. Finally, Dean rolled off of Castiel, and without looking at him, he tugged off his shirt and jeans, folding them and placing them on a nearby dresser and crawling into the bed, mindful not to kick Castiel as he wriggled down the bed. There was an awkward pause as Castiel processed Dean’s sudden u-turn.

‘Dean?’

Dean left a long pause before he answered.

‘Yeah?’

‘Are you mad at me?’

‘No. Are you mad at me?’ Dean wasn’t convincing, at all. Castiel tried to put his concerns about Rebecca out of his mind, to focus on someone much more important. Was it really so difficult to allow Dean to touch him the way Dean wanted, after all?

‘Of course not.’ Castiel tried to sound assuring. He made himself stand, and removed his clothes with his angel powers, before climbing into the bed beside Dean. He knew with Dean that words weren’t enough, he would have to show it. And sure enough, Dean was watching his every movement with that hungry look in his eyes. Castiel found himself explaining further as he slid under the covers, resting his head on the unoccupied pillow. ‘I just have a lot on my mind.’

‘Yeah? Like what?’ Dean sounded interested. Castiel made the lights in the room turn off, and sighed as he looked up at the ceiling. Hadn’t Dean been paying any attention?

‘You know,’ Dean began, reaching across the bed and toying with a lock of Castiel’s hair, rubbing the strands and twisting his fingers around the section as he spoke quietly. ‘When you’re in a relationship with someone, you tell them when something’s bothering you. The whole point is that you have someone you can spill your problems to. I’m meant to be on your side Cas.’

Castiel knew what Dean was trying to say, but hadn’t Castiel been trying to do that? And Dean had been disregarding it. And more than that, was Dean saying he was open to knowing about his confrontation with Vibeke? To know what Meg had threatened? To know how risky their relationship truly was? Could he even admit to removing Dean’s memories? He turned to look at Dean in the dark, his already husky voice thickening with emotion as he spoke.

‘You make it sound so easy.’

‘It’s not easy, Cas. It’s a relationship. And you wanted one.’ Dean pointed out.

‘The reality is very different to my observations.’

Dean seemed to hesitate before replying. When he did, he confused Castiel even more.

‘Cas? Are you breaking up with me?’

Castiel noticed the concern in Dean’s voice, as though he wanted nothing less than to end their relationship, but had Castiel really been putting out signals that could be interpreted in that way?

‘No Dean, of course not. There’s just a lot more to relationships than I first thought.’

Dean moved over slightly, leaning on an elbow, and running his hand through Castiel’s chest hair, looking back at Castiel as though they could make out each other’s expressions in the gloom.

‘It sounds like you’re regretting us.’

Again, Castiel heard his concern. But how could Dean think that? He tried to make it clear, to reiterate the points he’d been making earlier.

‘I’m not. I would never, Dean. I’m thinking of your brother.’

Dean shifted even closer, laying against Castiel’s chest, one leg wrapping around the angel’s. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean too, surprised that the hunter would need reassurance the way he was indicating, but cherishing the feel of the hunter’s skin against his own. Dean shut down the topic of Sam and Rebecca again.

‘Sam knows what he’s doing. Are you going to stay here all night?’

Castiel gave up trying to make his point. Dean would listen when he was ready, and in the mean time, Castiel was going to enjoy the idea of laying in bed with Dean as he slept again.

‘Of course Dean. If that’s what you want.’

Castiel kissed the hunter’s forehead tenderly. Dean sounded sleepy when he responded this time.

‘I want you, Cas.’

Castiel embraced the words, wishing he could have Dean say them again and again, as he pulled Dean closer against him. Dean nuzzled his head into the nape of Castiel’s neck, his fingers still sliding through Castiel’s chest hair though their were beginning to slow, and he became heavy against Castiel. And the angel began humming a song he had heard somewhere, a long time ago, though he had no idea what song it was. It seemed to help send Dean to sleep though, and Castiel was grateful for that. He wanted the time to think, and though he loved Dean to a terrifying degree, Dean didn’t seem to understand what he needed, not right then.

*

Castiel stayed in bed with Dean all night, as promised, thinking continuously about Rebecca, and Vibeke, and Meg. At least Dean was uncomplicated in comparison to the women he knew. But the one currently in the same house with them seemed the least complicated of the three, which Castiel decided could be attributed to the fact that she was human. He could also link some of her disposition to Sam’s presence.

As soon as the sun began to rise, Castiel slipped out from underneath Dean’s prone form, slipped on one of Dean’s shirts, and left the room quietly, hoping that Rebecca was an early riser so that they could talk before Dean and Sam were awake and stifling her.

He found her in the kitchen, in a cartoon shirt and matching pants, clutching a mug with both hands and staring into the distance. He knew that humans didn’t appreciate sudden noises, or being touched when they were thinking deeply. But they also didn’t like it when you stood there and said nothing. As Castiel was trying to work out the best way to approach her, she spoke.

‘Couldn’t sleep either, huh?’

‘I don’t sleep,’ Castiel reminded her gently, taking that as his cue to sit opposite her at the kitchen island. She brushed her hair out of her face.

‘Sorry, I thought you were Sam or Dean.’

‘Sorry to disappoint you.’

Rebecca took a sip of her drink, eyeing him carefully, and Castiel decided to lead the conversation.

‘Dean mentioned briefly about how you married Sam, but he didn’t really want to talk about it. Do you mind?’

Rebecca put her mug down, still clutching it, and cocked her head at him.

‘I’m not surprised Dean didn’t want to talk about it, they probably forgot all about me the second they left.’

‘Well, I’m sorry that happened. You seem like a nice person.’

Rebecca smiled weakly, before taking another sip of her drink.

‘I’m sure nice people don’t get duped by demons calling themselves Wiccan. Nice people don’t drug the guy they like in order to get married.’  
Castiel sat forward.

‘Anyone can get duped by a demon. Even I have. Even Sam and Dean have. You shouldn’t feel bad for that. And I said to Dean that you must really care about Sam to go to those lengths to keep him.’

Rebecca didn’t understand that Castiel was, at least in part, referring to himself. That was his excuse for wiping Dean’s memory after all, wasn’t it? Going to any lengths to be with the man he loved. Rebecca leaned forward herself.

’That’s what I told myself. When I read the books, Sam seemed so relatable. I mean, he was trying to be normal and the world wouldn’t let him, and then all that stuff happened with that bitch Ruby and he was worried about being a freak and I’ve always been told I was a freak. I mean, it sounded so right, especially when Chuck told me they were real, but reality …’ she took another sip of her drink, and while she was being so open, Castiel took a risk and decided to be just as straight with her.

‘I understand. I never thought I would ever be able to relate to a human, and then they sent me into Hell to save Dean’s soul, made me convey messages to him whenever my superiors needed to utilise him. But then I spoke to Dean, had him ask me questions, and I realised that everyone in my Garrick was wrong about humans. Dean’s showed me a lot of humanity, he’s helped me see the world through human eyes. But we’re very different, even without me being an angel.’

‘It’s not the same thing,’ Rebecca shook her hair out of her face again. ‘But Sam told me I was a good person, and that the right person for me was out there, and then I started internet dating, and finally, there was this guy, this wonderful man who listened to me and cared, and he understood me and he knew so much and I couldn’t believe he was real. Only it turns out, he wasn’t real, because it was still Sam.’

‘Maybe that’s the only time it was real,’ Castiel pointed out kindly. ‘When Sam didn’t have to worry about you knowing everything about his life from a series of books written by a prophet, when you asked him questions instead of telling him. Give him some time, Sam’s not unreasonable.’

‘Even if Sam did come around, Dean would have something to say.’

Castiel smiled, hoping that he wasn’t going to overstep his boundaries in one sentence.

‘Leave Dean to me, he’ll come around. He listens to what I have to say as well.’

Rebecca gave him a weak smile, and Castiel pushed his boundaries some more. Talking about Dean in this way had reminded him of a conversation they had right at the beginning of their relationship discussions, and still nothing had come of it. Rebecca would help him, surely?

‘Rebecca, do you have a way of making coffee?’

‘Uh, yeah, the percolator’s there. I just made some.’

‘Could you show me how to make it?’

Rebecca actually laughed, her entire face lighting up as she did so.

‘You can help yourself, Castiel!’

‘I wanted to make some for Dean. It’s a private thing.’

‘Okay.’ She grinned with an enthusiasm that matched her soul, and stood up, nodding her head over to the coffee pot. ‘By the way, you should call me Becky.’

‘Thank you. Becky.’

He paid attention as she talked her way through using the pot, pouring a drink from the liquid already inside, and sneaking small smiles at him when he wasn’t looking, though she never mentioned what she was thinking. As soon as she finished the pouring, Sam walked into the kitchen, and they both looked around at the same time to smile at him.

‘Hey, what’re you two up to?’

‘I’m showing Castiel how to be human. He asked.’

Sam nodded, his demeanour more friendly than it had been the night before.

‘He usually asks Dean, feel honoured. Hey, um, you wanna carry on talking?’

Rebecca nodded, and followed Sam out of the room, turning at the doorway to smile at Castiel, raising a thumb in her excitement. Castiel smiled back, and then began making coffee the way she had shown him, making it as strong as he thought Dean would appreciate. He poured it into another cup, and felt two strong arms circle his waist, as someone pressed close behind him, and nuzzled into his ear. He smiled, knowing there was only one person on the planet who he would want to do that.

‘And why did I wake up without you this morning?’ Dean sounded alert, and flirty. Castiel put the coffee pot down, and picked up the mug he’d poured, hoping Dean would remember, and understand. But for good measure, Castiel turned his head to kiss Dean gently, and then offered up the drink.

‘Because I thought you’d sleep in a little longer. I was going to bring the coffee up.’

‘You made me coffee?’ Dean sounded surprised as he took the mug, but from the way he tightened his hold on Castiel, the angel knew he understood the gesture. Castiel turned around in Dean’s arms as the hunter left the cup on the sideboard, and stroked Castiel’s face, looking at his lover intently. Castiel mustered a smile back, trying not to hope for too much from Dean, not after the misunderstanding the night before.

‘Is it too early to be making you coffee?’

‘No Cas. Perfect timing.’

And then Dean’s lips were catching at Castiel’s, softly, tentatively, and Castiel kissed back with an enthusiasm to make up for the night before. Castiel wanted to believe, more than ever, that he and Dean were on the same page, that Dean understood the coffee gesture. The kisses were the good kind, Castiel decided. Kisses that were slow, and searching, full of emotion, kisses that were accompanied by fingers threaded together, not with an urgency that demanded their clothes be shed. He rubbed his hands in circles on Dean’s lower back, as Dean’s fingers tickled his face. Castiel wondered if Dean had noticed that he was wearing the hunter’s shirt, especially as Dean was topless.

Castiel would have gladly stayed like that with Dean all day, but unfortunately they weren’t alone in the house, and he was only reminded of that fact as Becky walked into the room, talking quickly.

‘Yeah, well, it’s a little awkward with my ex-husband here …’

Cas drew back from the kiss, despite Dean’s insistent lips, worried that Becky would become uncomfortable, seeing them together. He could see her, just past Dean’s head, staring open-mouthed, holding her phone in front of her.

‘Oh my God. Charlie, I’m going to have to call you back.’

A voice from the phone rang out loudly across the kitchen, a female voice just as bubbly as Becky’s.

‘Uh-uh, with a face like that, you’re going to have to show me what’s ending the call. Come on, don’t hold out on me.’

Dean turned around at that comment as Becky turned her phone around, stepping closer, and Castiel noticed the pretty red-head on the phone’s screen, looking surprised as she took in the scene before her.

‘Dean?’ She squealed excitedly, and Castiel felt a wave of envy wash over him.

‘Hey Charlie. What’s up?’ Dean sounded casual, like he hadn’t just been caught making out with another male in Becky’s kitchen.

‘Apparently, you got yourself a boyfriend, that’s what’s up! Girlfriend, where’ve you been? Okay, Becky, I have to come over!’

‘Charlie,’ Becky admonished, eyeing Dean warily, though Dean seemed oblivious. Becky carried on, assuming that Charlie would be listening. ‘It’s not a good idea, not with Sam-‘

‘Dean, you want me to visit, right?’ Charlie interrupted. Dean laughed, and snuggled back into Castiel’s arms, nuzzling his head against the angel again.

‘Sure, Char.’

‘Good, because you and me need a major session of gossiping about your boy toy. Becky, it’s decided, I’m coming. Don’t worry, Sam loves me too. I mean, Dean loves me more … catch you soon!’

Charlie’s picture disappeared off the screen, leaving it covered in small squares instead. Becky tucked the phone into her pocket in the strained silence that followed, and Castiel wondered if there was going to be an argument between Dean and Becky, since Dean had basically invited the girl on the phone to her house. In the tense atmosphere, Dean grabbed his drink, and still pressing close to Castiel, he half-turned to look at Becky.

‘So, how do you know Charlie?’

‘Oh, she emailed me a few months ago, wanting to know more about you and your brother. Told me it was crazy but you were real. I said I knew that, and she said how you basically got her fired from her job.’

‘And saved her life!’ Dean said indignantly. Becky nodded, as though that were an unimportant detail. Castiel thought it was, really. That was Dean’s job, but it was still something he held close to his heart, which was what made it important. And that was why Dean felt the need to make the point.

‘Yeah, she said that too. I was always a little jealous that she talked about you like you all got along great, but she’s so nice, I couldn’t help liking her.’

‘Yeah, Charlie does that to you.’

Becky nodded again, and then waved her hand between the two men, her intrigue flaring in her eyes, though out of respect for Dean’s normal demeanour, she managed not to squeal in excitement.

‘So, what’s this? I mean, I’ve read the books, I know about your “profound bond” and I asked Chuck what was in it when all these Destiel fans appeared out of nowhere-‘

‘Excuse you?’ Dean interrupted, his voice not amused. Becky shook her head, the spark dulling.

‘Never mind.’

‘What’s a desert elle?’ Castiel asked, knowing that he had mispronounced the word she had used.

‘Destiel. They merged your names together. Like Brangelina.’

Castiel didn’t know who Brangelina was, or what it was, but he tried merging his name with Dean’s, and smiled as he did so, cocking his head and accidentally nudging Dean’s cheek.

‘Oh, like Dean-and-Castiel. That’s clever.’

Castiel was rewarded by a huge smile from Becky, who suddenly started barraging him with questions. Castiel guessed that she felt more relaxed around him after their brief conversation slightly earlier. He preferred it though, she finally seemed as warm as her soul had indicated, with an incredible thirst for knowledge.

‘So, you’re an angel, right? Do you have magic powers? Do you have you know … can you two …’

She flicked her finger back-and-forth between Dean and Castiel, as though that would indicate what she couldn’t convey verbally. Castiel didn’t understand, was she asking whether they had permission to be together? How could Becky tell, and Dean never thought to wonder?

‘I mean, in the books, Dean had sex with Anna,’ Becky continued without prompting, and Castiel looked at Dean as it dawned on him what Becky was actually asking about. She made her point firmly by continuing to babble about other angels. ‘So that means there must be something going on … there, or was Dean right in the books when he called Uriel junkless?’

Dean was glaring at Becky.

‘That’s none of your business, Becky,’ Dean’s voice was strained with barely concealed anger. ‘And just a tip, you wanna get in Sam’s good books? You don’t mention anything written by Carver Edlund. Ever.’

Becky’s face dropped, and she pouted as Castiel watched her soul dim slightly. He felt compelled to say something again to Dean, and this time he would make him listen.

‘I get it, Dean. Sorry for being excited for the two of you. You seem really sweet together. But I get it, I wasn’t meant to see it, don’t tell Sam, it’s fine.’

She left the room, and Dean sipped from his coffee, looking down into the mug, trying not to look at Castiel, who was feeling more upset on Becky’s behalf the longer that Dean stalled. As soon as Dean’s mug was put on the sideboard, clearly empty, Castiel decided to bring it up.

‘Dean-‘

‘It was a long time ago.’ Dean snapped back, already defensive. Castiel realised he was talking about Becky mentioning Anna, but Castiel was long past that. Even at the time, Anna hadn’t mattered compared to Sam and himself.

‘I wasn’t thinking about Uriel and Anna. I was thinking that you were nice to the girl on the phone, but you were harsh when you were talking to Becky. That’s not fair.’

‘Charlie’s like a little sister to me.’ Dean still sounded defensive, and Castiel merely shrugged. To him, that didn’t excuse the way Dean had spoken to Becky.

‘Have you been talking with Becky?’ Dean’s tone was becoming accusing, and Castiel began to worry that they were about to fight. He tried to calm down, and change his tone as he answered.

‘When she was showing me how to use the coffee pot. I think you and Sam misunderstand her, and underestimate her. Give her a chance.’

Dean’s response was to hold Castiel’s chin gently between a thumb and finger, and tilt his face up slightly, kissing Castiel softly. As though that were enough to end the discussion.

‘For you.’ Dean conceded quietly. ‘And for the record? You make a mean coffee.’

As grateful as Castiel was for Dean agreeing to at least try to be civil to Becky, he was confused by what Dean had said about the drink. He was assuming it was a compliment. He could taste a trace of it on Dean’s tongue as the hunter kissed him again, pulling closer as he did though they were already pressed against one another.

‘So I can do it again?’ Castiel tried to check, though he couldn’t escape Dean’s kisses and had to ask with Dean’s lips pressed against his own.

‘Please. Like, every morning.’

Castiel found himself laughing, and Dean reached down, grabbing both of his legs and tugging them up until Castiel found himself being supported wholly by Dean pressing him against the sideboard, his legs wrapped around the thick torso of his lover. Dean carried on whispering, their mouths still colliding as their pulses began to race.

‘Stop trying to turn me on. I’m going to have to take you upstairs and screw you.’

Castiel looked around quickly, noting that they were alone in the room. He decided to put the debate behind them, and make it up to Dean after not being responsive the night before. He looked his lover in the eyes and smiled in what he hoped was a flirty way.

‘How are you going to screw me, Dean? I don’t think I understand the process.’

Dean looked surprised, and baffled, but then he smiled back, nuzzling closer so that only Castiel would be able to hear.

‘I’m going to carry you upstairs, slowly, probably bumping into the walls all the time because we’ll be kissing so hard the tip of my tongue will be in your stomach. And we’re barely going to make it into the spare room-‘

Castiel reached over and bit gently on Dean’s earlobe, knowing that it was one of Dean’s weak spots. Sure enough, Dean groaned loudly in response.

‘And then what, Dean? I’m still hazy,’ Castiel whispered, licking up into Dean’s ear, feeling the hunter shake with desire as he pushed him harder against the counter. The faux-marble bit into Castiel’s thighs and should have been painful, but somehow it wasn’t, not with Dean. It just seemed to goad them both further.

‘And then we’re going to fall in a heap on the floor and tear at each other’s clothes until we’re naked, and things are going to get hazy, and sweaty, and we’re both going to struggle to breathe but we won’t give a shit because we’ll be together, skin on skin, kissing each other like the world’s going to end. And then you’ll start working down my body-‘

‘Other way around.’ Castiel decided recklessly, biting down on Dean’s earlobe again. He wondered for a moment if Dean would still let him take charge like this, and Dean’s response dissolved his fleeting concern.

‘Okay, so I’ll be kissing down your neck, biting hard, hoping to cover you in hickeys. I’ll cover every inch of skin I can, wanting to taste you, to savour you, even as you’re pushing my head down because you’re so needy, so desperate for me that you don’t want to wait.’

Castiel moaned this time, picturing so clearly everything that Dean was describing. He kissed down Dean’s ear, and just behind his jawline, loving the way Dean’s knees seemed to buckle before he pulled himself together. Somehow, Dean managed to concentrate enough to continue.

‘And then I get to your dick, and you’re trying to tell me what to do with your hands, but I’m ignoring you, because this isn’t about getting you off straight away, this is about worshipping every inch of your body. And I know you’re going to love it when I take my time, kissing and licking every inch of you, one of my hands working your balls, the other hand working your ass, and you’re going to start shaking because every fibre of your being, every fibre of mine, is going to be concentrating on your dick.’

‘Dean, stop talking,’ Castiel breathed, no longer able to stand Dean’s words without some kind of action. He started kissing Dean enthusiastically, and the hunter seemed to understand his intentions. Somehow, with a strength Castiel didn’t know Dean possessed, he carried him through the house, stopping often to press the angel up against a wall or a doorframe, their mouths persistent, their tongues urgent. They had just reached the base of the stairs, and Dean was using the handrail as a support, when they heard a loud, exasperated groan behind them, and Sam’s voice broke through their sexually-charged bubble.

‘Can you two not keep it in your pants for twenty-four hours?’

‘Mmmm, I would, but we have a lot of lost time to catch up on.’ Dean muttered, still not breaking his connection with Castiel’s mouth.

‘You’re animals.’ Sam announced, before trying to appeal to their compassionate sides. ‘Look, this is hard enough with Becky, without you two acting like teenagers, can you please tone it down?’

Castiel reluctantly stopped kissing Dean to look Sam in the eye. Sam seemed annoyed, but not angry, and Castiel was high on the feelings that his lover was stirring in him.

‘Dean’s made me a promise. He has to keep it.’

Sam rolled his eyes, and pushed back his hair.

‘Yeah, okay, I get it, you’re both on heat. Please, just not in Becky’s house, not right now.’

‘I understand Sam, but I really can’t hear you right now,’ Castiel shrugged callously, and looked at Dean, whose expression was a little dazed. ‘You were taking me back to our room?’

Dean turned his head to look at Sam, the dazed look still on his face, and they stared at each other before Sam relented.

‘Stay in that room, and keep it down. I don’t want to know.’

Sam walked back into the sitting room, calling for Becky, and Castiel grabbed Dean’s face, forcing another kiss onto his lover. Dean reacted straight away, kissing back with abandon, carrying Castiel up the stairs, pressing him against the walls as Castiel’s hands roamed around Dean’s body. Somehow, they made it back into the spare room, where Dean kicked the door closed behind them and rushed to the bed, pulling his shirt off of Castiel the second he bounced on the mattress. Castiel reached for Dean’s jeans, undoing the button as they kissed ferociously and Dean reached his hands into Castiel’s underwear, onto his butt, squeezing so hard that Castiel wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t pull them out again.

He tugged down the jeans, and Dean’s underwear, which Dean helped to kick off before bearing down on Castiel, one hand still firmly on Castiel’s ass as the other came around to the front, kneading and massaging Castiel’s penis, and Castiel could barely think, could barely concentrate as he gave in to Dean’s expert touch.

‘Dean,’ he said through gritted teeth, unable to kiss back further. And Dean began kissing along his neck in the way he loved, and he began talking rapidly, breathlessly, lost in the throes of passion ‘I love you, Dean, I love you so much, that feels so good. Don’t stop, please don’t stop.’

‘I know Cas, I know baby, I won’t, I won’t, you taste so good,’ Dean muttered back, still pumping his hand around Castiel as he kissed Castiel’s neck urgently, and Castiel zapped his pants off, before pushing his hands down, grabbing Dean’s hand and Dean’s penis too, securing Dean’s hand around both of them, and his own two hands around Dean, their hips moving with their hands, their breathing loud and laboured, and Dean stopped kissing Dean’s neck to look up at them.

There was something shocking yet intimate about looking into Dean’s eyes as they touched each other in this way, at seeing the feral expression on Dean’s face until it transformed into a state of uncontrolled bliss, and Castiel’s stomach was covered once again with a warm liquid that came from Dean. This time, there didn’t seem to be anything sordid about it, instead it was a private moment between two lovers.

‘That’s all for you, Cas,’ Dean whispered. Castiel could barely concentrate, as something built inside his own vessel and he too came all over their bodies, smiling weakly at Dean as he did so. They looked at each other steadily as they lay in the aftermath, their hands still wrapped around their genitalia. Castiel felt relaxed, and so close to Dean at that moment, that he could have stayed like that forever. Dean chuckled quietly to himself before whispering to Castiel.

‘Cas? How do you take your coffee?’

Castiel found himself laughing, feeling so blissed out already and then having Dean ask him that. That Dean remembered, and realised what Castiel had been doing that morning sent his heart soaring. Dean might not have said he loved Castiel yet, but that was the next best thing.


	12. Chapter 12

Castiel felt completely sated, laying underneath Dean in the aftermath of their orgasms. He embraced Dean’s warm weight on top of him, the way Dean seemed to sink into his body as they lay there in the spare room, naked and sweaty and covered in each other. Castiel couldn’t remember what he had been so worried about even a few days before. Laying underneath Dean in this way was perfectly blissful, in a way Castiel couldn’t remember experiencing. He found himself humming softly, tracing his fingers lightly over Dean’s skin, noticing how the motion of their chests mimicked each others and how Dean shivered slightly in the cool of the room.

He could hear, though he doubted that Dean could, a conversation in the room below between Becky and Sam. Becky was asking questions, like Castiel had suggested, and Sam was answering patiently. Castiel smiled to himself, glad that it sounded as though Sam was making the effort to take Becky seriously.

And so was Dean, he seemed perfectly content to lay on Castiel, skin on skin, his head resting just underneath Castiel’s chin. Was it too much for the angel to hope that this was a sign of Dean’s feelings? He had the hunter’s commitment, he knew that, but it was still hard to believe that Dean might that strongly for him. He wanted to bring it up in conversation, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment when Dean inevitably reacted badly. Instead, he tried to broach a subject that the hunter might respond well to.

‘Dean?’ Castiel spoke quietly, but his voice seemed to fill the silence of the room uncomfortably.

‘Mmmm?’ Dean sounded perfectly content in comparison. Castiel had realised by now that Dean would make that noise when he was agreeing with something, or else because Castiel had tried to convey how he felt.

‘You didn’t do what you promised.’

Dean was still for a long moment, and then he stretched, reaching up and resting his hands behind Castiel’s neck, toying with the strands of hair there. Castiel closed his eyes momentarily, enjoying Dean’s touch.

‘Well, if we had some of that stuff you bought, I could make it up to you.’

‘Some of the stuff I bought?’ Castiel didn’t understand what Dean meant. He was referring to the oral sex that had been described in detail in the kitchen. He felt Dean raise his head to look at him, but he continued looking at the ceiling.

‘Mmm, your little Amsterdam trip? If I coulda remembered, I would’ve brought it with us.’

Castiel held his breath for a moment. Dean was suggesting- Dean wanted to- Castiel was flattered, and could already feel the excitement bubbling up, as well as a healthy dose of nerves. What was Dean thinking of when he mentioned those purchases? Which ones did he want to use?

‘I could go and retrieve it? I can just flash in and flash out, it won’t take me any time.’ Castiel tried to keep the excited anticipation out of his voice, but there was still a trace that was evident as he spoke.

‘Okay, you do that, and I’m going to go for a shower.’

And then Castiel could picture Dean in the shower, rubbing scented gel over his body, the water trickling over the contours of his body, and the angel knew he wanted to be there, touching Dean, feeling the way the water grazed over his body. He began running his finger in circles along Dean’s shoulder, lowering his chin to finally look at Dean. He pursed his lips, and noticed how the hunter’s eyes seemed fixed on his mouth, his brow furrowing slightly. Castiel released his lips to speak, and Dean’s eyes flickered up, making eye contact though his gaze was slightly glassy. Castiel was trying to be bold about what he wanted.

‘Can I join you in the shower? And then get the stuff from the bunker?’

‘For someone who didn’t want sex last night, you’re being pretty suggestive right now.’ Dean purred, his lips twisting into a smile that was endearing and dangerous, all at once.

‘I wasn’t thinking of sex, not in the shower. I don’t think that’s possible.’ Castiel stated, stopping short when Dean winked suggestively. Was Dean implying it could happen? That he had managed to have intercourse in the confining space of a shower cubicle that humans insisted on building? He found himself flustered from that one small muscle twitch in Dean’s cheek that created the wink. ‘Oh. But I wasn’t thinking-‘

Dean leaned up and kissed Castiel firmly, cutting the angel off before he could completely embarrass himself. Castiel wondered if he could explain without feeling an overwhelming embarrassment that he just wanted the opportunity to wash Dean himself, to caress every inch of skin, to get to know the hunter’s body on an entirely different level. As soon as Dean lifted his lips, Castiel began trying to backtrack.

‘Don’t you think it’s disrespectful to Becky?’

‘No. She saw us together, she knows we’re together. She’s an adult, she can do the math.’ Dean nuzzled against Castiel’s collarbone playfully. ’So, if you don’t wanna screw in the shower, what did you wanna do in there?’

‘I don’t want to say it. Forget it.’ Castiel felt suddenly embarrassed, but also a little intrigued. It sounded as though Dean wanted to have sex in the shower.

‘Well, okay. I’m still gonna go shower, but if you change your mind, zap in.’ Dean kissed his collarbone again, before standing up, leaving Castiel alone, naked and cold on the bed as he gathered all the things he would need in the shower, and wrapped a towel around his waist. He turned, and met Castiel’s eyes before sweeping his gaze slowly across the angel’s body. Castiel could almost feel his gaze as a physical touch, caressing his skin and warming him as he did so. He hoped this meant that Dean was rethinking the shower, wanting to climb back on the bed and continue with what he had promised.

‘Dean?’ He could hear his desire in his voice, the silent coaxing for Dean to move across the room, to touch him and kiss him and complete him. But instead, just saying his lover’s name seemed to snap the hunter out of his reverie. He shook his head, and smiled briefly.

‘Yeah, I won’t be long, okay?’

Dean slipped out the room, barely opening the door wide enough to squeeze through, and Castiel watched him go, feeling a hint of paranoia creeping in. Was he reading Dean wrong? Was he meant to be joining Dean in the shower, or was he supposed to be prepping for afterwards already? Did Dean mean it when he said to zap in? He hoped so.

He appeared in the tiny shower cubicle, Dean’s back towards him, his skin an eerie colour from the reflected green tiles, but still so muscular, so smooth and defined, all of it covered in the lightest freckles that Castiel had not noticed before. He moved forward, sliding his hands around Dean’s dampened skin, until he was standing so close that his chest pressed against the hunter’s back.

‘You changed your mind?’ Dean’s voice, though muted, carried a strange weight, as though he was trying to anticipate Castiel’s next move.

‘No.’

Castiel pressed a kiss between Dean’s shoulder blades, before letting go and reaching for the items he knew people used to clean themselves. He poured a small amount of a bottle he recognised as Dean’s onto a white poofy implement he assumed was Becky’s, and then began to massage Dean’s back slowly with the poofy implement. Dean stood stock still, allowing Castiel to work on every inch of skin on his back. He tried to work methodically, circling across Dean’s shoulders, and then the bottom of his rib cage, and his waist, going from one side to the other as far down as the slight colour change on Dean’s skin, just above his backside, where his torso had been exposed to more sunlight.

‘Turn around.’ He whispered into Dean’s ear, and Dean moved quickly, careful not to accidentally knock Castiel into the glass door or the vibrant tiling. Without another word, Castiel repeated the pattern, this time starting at the top of Dean’s chest, his gaze trained on Dean’s skin. He didn’t want to miss one bit, though he could feel the intensity of Dean’s gaze.

Dean started suddenly, as they heard Sam’s voice calling up from the floors below.

‘Dean?’

Dean groaned, and rubbed his face with one hand, before taking a deep breath, his chest flexing under Castiel’s fingers as he responded.

‘In the shower!’

There was a short pause.

‘Oh. Where’s Cas?’

Castiel felt his cheeks heat up, and he forced himself to concentrate on what he was doing. How was Dean going to answer? Sam had already made it explicit that he wasn’t happy with them being overly amorous in Becky’s house, and Castiel felt a stab of guilt. They weren’t respecting Sam and Becky at all. It was hard to do so, with Dean so close by, and so sexually charged.

‘Angel stuff!’ Dean hollered back. Castiel waited for the moment where Sam would question Dean further.

‘Okay. I’m going to the supermarket with Becky, okay? Want anything?’

Or maybe neither brother really thought to ask any more about Castiel’s seraphic duty. In any case, Castiel was grateful that Sam didn’t probe any further.

‘Beer. And pie!’

Castiel couldn’t help but smile at how typically Dean his response was. He made himself focus as he moved down to Dean’s stomach, pretending he didn’t hear Dean’s sharp intake of breath.

‘Fine. See you later!’ Sam called, making one last attempt to ruin the moment between them. Castiel heard Becky’s voice asking Sam something, and the front door opening and closing, and he lowered his hand further as Dean braced himself against the tiles. Castiel had meant it when he had said he didn’t want to be in the shower with Dean for sex, though the way Dean’s body was responding to his touch was tempting. Castiel forced himself to focus on the point of this, which was to have a deeply intimate moment with his partner, and continued down Dean’s legs, before standing up, looking into Dean’s bewildered eyes and smiling as though they were sharing a secret.

‘Do you need help washing your hair?’

Dean nodded, unable to verbalise the answer, and Castiel found the correct bottle as he threw the white puffy thing aside, pouring the lotion into his hand and reaching up to Dean’s hair, working his fingers gently into Dean’s scalp. Dean closed his eyes, his lips slightly parted, catching the occasional water droplet that bounced off Castiel’s skin.

Castiel focused on Dean’s parted lips, which seemed to tremble, until he was happy with his work. He urged Dean back under the spray, and worked the suds out of the hunter’s hair before his resolve crumbled, and he caught Dean’s mouth gently with his own, briefly, before stepping back, against the glass. Dean’s eyes opened, the expression in them unreadable.

‘I should go and get everything,’ Castiel muttered, his own voice caught up with lust. ‘I won’t be long.’

‘Okay. Don’t bring the whips.’ Dean was barely audible over the pattering of water drops.

‘I know.’ Castiel stole one more kiss, and then zapped out into the bunker, where he moved quickly, aware that he was naked. His suit was back at Becky’s house, but he knew that Dean had a few nice suits he used for posing as a federal agent. He put one on quickly, sniffing deeply as Dean’s scent surrounded him, and made a beeline for his room, going through the bags for the items that Dean had already vetoed, leaving the whips and perspex box on an old filing cabinet, and zapping back over to Becky’s house.

The room they were using was empty, Dean was obviously still in the bathroom, and Castiel went through the bags, laying everything out precisely on the desk, trying to anticipate what Dean was planning on doing. He had just emptied half of one bag, and was reaching in again when a hand was placed on his arm, and he turned to see his lover shaking his head.

’This is fine Cas. This is enough.’ Dean reached over and picked up a DVD, turning it over in his hand. ‘You wanna watch this while we screw?’

There was a note of humour in his voice, and Castiel felt affronted, both by the tone and Dean’s wording. Calling it “screwing” made him feel cheap. At least when Dean described it as “fucking” there was a trace of urgency in the word, like he was desperate to be with Castiel. Screwing felt like Dean considered him expendable, and he didn’t want that.

‘Please don’t call it that.’

Dean shrugged, as though it wasn’t a big deal.

‘Sorry,’ he wrapped his arms around Castiel’s midriff, resting his chin against the angel’s shoulder, and then started untucking his shirt, his fingers running across Castiel’s stomach gently, leaving a burning sensation across his skin. Dean dropped his voice low, sounding sultry. ‘You’ve got too many clothes on.’

Castiel couldn’t help but laugh before he looked his lover in the eye.

‘Is this really going to happen?’ He asked. The last time they had tried, Dean had climaxed before anything had really started, and Castiel definitely wanted to experience sex as it was supposed to be. The way Dean could make it. He wanted them joined together in a way that left no room for doubt.

‘Don’t you want it to?’

Was Dean trying to talk him out of it? Why? He wanted their second time to be memorable, to last longer than the time it took for Dean to penetrate him. He needed to say something to make the hunter understand what it was he wanted.

‘I do. Please, just go easy on me, Dean.’

Dean nodded, and began kissing him gently, working the shirt off his body, breaking the kiss to lift it over Castiel’s head. Castiel took Dean’s face gently, stroking his cheeks with two soft thumbs, and their eyes were locked as Dean squatted slightly, working the slacks off Castiel’s legs. The angel let go of Dean’s face to remove the towel from his hips, and Dean leaned closer, grabbing something off the desk and pushing against Castiel with his body, walking him back to the bed.

Castiel watched as Dean leaned back on the bed, tugging him along with one hand. Castiel went willingly, straddling Dean as he leaned against the headboard and contemplating Dean seriously, as Dean gave him a faint smile. Then Dean surprised him as he cleared his throat.

‘It’s okay, Cas. It’s you and me, right?’

Castiel nodded, moving his leg slightly to get more comfortable. Dean pulled his knees up, pressing Castiel in the space between his legs and his chest, and Castiel wrapped his arms around him kissing him tenderly, squeezing Dean’s torso.

Dean reached up, his fingers curling into Castiel’s hair as their kisses became more urgent, and then he was stroking a hand down Castiel’s back, his fingers becoming firmer, making Castiel arch his back and press into Dean’s chest. And then Dean’s fingers were slipping past the waistband of the underwear Castiel had found, skimming over his backside, and Castiel continued to shift on Dean’s lap, the sensation overwhelming him as Dean ran a finger down the cleft of his butt. And then Dean’s finger found it’s mark, and he pushed into the angel’s hole, firmly but without being rough. Yet Castiel couldn’t help but jerk back, away from Dean’s mouth, his eyes widening as he took a sharp breath in.

‘Dean!’

Dean’s expression was torn between lust and cringing over Castiel’s reaction. He kept his finger in Castiel, but stopped moving.

‘Babe, it’s okay. It’s part of it, okay?’

Castiel knew that, he’d used the butt plug the last time they’d attempted this. But Dean’s finger felt different to the metal plug, and it was the difference that made it more shocking. He bobbed his head to answer Dean, and the hunter seemed to interpret his silence as fear.

‘Okay, Cas? I want you to think of a word. Any word, so long as it’s nothing to do with this, okay? Let me know what it is, and any time you want to stop, you say it. And I’ll stop straight away, even if I’m already inside you. Deal?’

Castiel cocked his head, trying to think through the practicalities of Dean’s suggestion. He didn’t want to stop, and he very much doubted that in the throes of passion, Dean would be able to stop. He felt he had to point that out.

‘That sounds impractical.’

Dean smiled like Castiel was trying to be cute.

‘It’s meant to catch me off guard. If you shout liquorice when we’re in the moment, it’ll take me out of it and remind me you want to stop. They call it a safeword. But think of something you’d remember, okay? You’re the one who’s going to be calling it.’

Castiel could think of a few things he liked that would be good to say to Dean if the moment went too far. He pressed his forehead against Dean’s, feeling the finger slip in further as he whispered.

‘Guinea pig.’

‘Guinea pig it is. Only when you want to stop, okay?’

Castiel nodded, and pressed his lips once more to Dean’s, their tongues colliding together again more desperately and urgently than before, and the hunter dug his finger even deeper into Castiel, who reeled into Dean’s chest without noticing, too engrossed in the sensations that Dean’s fingers were invoking. He didn’t hear himself groan in pleasure, though he knew he must be, if Dean was making him feel like he was coming apart in this way.

Dean pushed another finger into Castiel, and the angel rocked his hips hard into his lover, beginning to grab at the hunter’s back, trying and failing to get some purchase, someway of clinging to his boyfriend through the intense sensations rocking through his body. Dean’s fingers moved the way the rest of his body did around sex, they were steady and confident and seemed to instinctively know what Castiel wanted. He stopped kissing the hunter, unable to concentrate on Dean’s lips while his body was reacting so strongly to his lover’s touch.

Dean began kissing his face over and over, his breath hot against Castiel’s cheek, and he inserted a third finger into Castiel’s backside. A loud moan ripped through Castiel’s body, and he could feel the bed shaking. Dean was panting heavily, but he managed to force a laugh through his audible breaths.

‘You like that?’ His voice was low, oozing sex appeal, and Castiel closed his eyes, trying to savour every detail of this moment. Then Dean’s tone altered, became loaded with concern. ‘Cas-‘

‘Keep going.’ Castiel managed to whisper, pulling closer to the hunter, burying his face in Dean’s warm, sweaty shoulder. Dean did so, his fingers moving faster than before, curling and probing inside the angel’s vessel, and then he was inserting a fourth finger, and Castiel was sure he was going to explode. An inhuman sound filled the room, but Castiel couldn’t help it. How did Dean manage it?

‘Cas-‘

‘Dean!’ Castiel wasn’t sure if he was shouting the name in a bout of passion, or trying to stop Dean from ending the sex session, or because he too had heard at that moment a small thud from the floor below and was concerned about demons attacking them in their distracted state. Castiel didn’t care about any of that, he wanted Dean filling him completely, and he wanted it as soon as possible.

‘You remember the safe word?’ Dean whispered. Castiel nodded wildly, pressing his body further into Dean’s, his own erection sticking slightly into Dean’s belly button.

‘You wanna keep going?’

Castiel nodded wordlessly, and Dean’s fingers twitched in response, making the angel moan loudly again, and Dean started working him harder than before. Castiel heard a ripping sound, and the hunter started whispering in his ear, breath so hot against his ear that it felt like fire.

‘Cas? Help me get this on.’

Castiel turned his head, and saw the rubber in the hand that wasn’t halfway inside him, and the look of desire in Dean’s eyes. And then the hunter parted his fingers, making him jolt forward and grab the condom. He started to ease it onto Dean, watching as his eyed closed slowly. Castiel worried that his gentle touch was sending his lover to sleep.

‘Dean?’

Dean’s eyes opened slowly, his eyelids still hooded, and he smiled back blissfully.

‘Mmmm.’ This time, the noise sounded almost seemed like a growl, and Dean was suddenly more alert. He reached across the bed and grabbed the tube of lube, withdrawing his hand from Castiel as he did so. The angel moaned softly in his disappointment, but Dean was moving quickly, unscrewing the cap, squirting the cool gel onto his fingers, and bringing them around again, easing back into Castiel’s butt and circling his fingers, massaging the tender skin.

Castiel started moaning loudly again, clinging to Dean tightly, lost in the sensations the hunter was creating once again. Before he knew it, he was being held by the hips, and Dean was thrusting into him, controlling the motion of his hips, and Castiel felt like he was going to lose his mind as his body reacted to Dean’s. He felt the hunter dig his fingertips into his hips, and started moving with him, thrusting back against him and he yelled incoherently into Dean’s shoulder.

Dean was groaning almost as loudly, his breathing shallow and heavy; the bed frame was squeaking underneath them, and suddenly Dean was shouting in his ear, his body becoming rigid. Castiel’s body felt floppy, and heavy, and he laughed from pure joy as he searched for Dean’s mouth, kissing him sloppily and then tucking himself under the hunter’s chin, his body still wrapped around his lover’s penis. He felt he had to say something to Dean, to try to communicate just how happy he was.

’So that’s sex?’

It had definitely been more enjoyable than their first attempt, and far more physical than anything else they’d tried. Dean wrapped his arms around the angel protectively.

‘Mmmm.’

‘We can definitely do that again.’ Castiel purred, and began tracing the contours of Dean’s chest.

‘Good. Because we still need to use that stuff.’

Castiel couldn’t see Dean pointing, but he knew the hunter meant the items still on the desk, and the things Castiel hadn’t unpacked yet. He felt a thrill run through him at the idea of using any of them, and of the idea that Dean was enthusiastic to do so. But he knew that their time was limited, at least for the morning.

‘Another time, maybe,’ he sighed and kissed Dean’s firm chest. ’Sam and Becky will be back soon, we need to clean up.’

He forced himself to stand, taking his time so he could enjoy the feeling of Dean inside him for a few more moments. And then he leaned over and kissed his lover quickly, before he tidied the room, cleaned them both up and got them both dressed by using his angelic powers. Dean scooted off the bed as well, and they walked wordlessly out of the room, Dean slipping his hand into the back pocket of Castiel’s slacks and kissing him at the bottom of the stairs, before tugging him gently into the sitting room, where Sam and Becky were side by side, glaring at the doorway. Castiel could tell by their expressions that they’d been there for a while, and could hear everything that happened between himself and Dean. He felt ashamed, and wanted to zap out but he couldn’t leave Dean to face the two of them alone.

‘Hey, thought you guys were at the store?’ Dean asked with a nervous chuckle.

‘It’s half a block away, Dean. But I guess you wouldn’t have heard us come back?’

Castiel heard the point Sam was making in his subtext, and he wanted more than ever to hide. He’d loved the way Dean had made him feel, been unashamed by the way he’d reacted, but with Sam and Becky staring at them, disgust written across Sam’s face and repulsion on Becky’s, Castiel felt as though he’d committed a huge sin.

And then Sam was changing the subject, holding out a newspaper to Dean.

‘More demonic signs, not that far away from us. We should check it out.’

Dean took the proffered newspaper, and Castiel grabbed hold of one side, making it easier for Dean to read, and so that they could remain close together. The angel was put off by Sam’s attitude, and the way he’d avoided reprimanding them over their sex life. Dean seemed to understand his brother better, and took his cue from the taller hunter.

‘Seems legit. When did you want to go?’

‘If we go now, we’ll be back before Charlie gets here.’ Becky finally spoke up, and Castiel felt terrible when he heard the shake in her voice. He could see what Sam meant the night before, about how their relationship was adversely affecting his own. She wouldn’t meet his eyes. But what had really been so awful about Dean and Castiel having sex? Wasn’t it a perfectly natural thing for a human to do?

Dean squeezed Castiel’s backside with the hand still in his back pocket, and Castiel was happy to focus on anything but Becky. Especially if it involved the man standing so close beside him that their sides touched.

‘Are you coming?’ Dean’s voice seemed intentionally seductive, and Castiel wondered if he felt any of the same guilt. He tried to focus on the real subject, though he hadn’t read the article. He doubted it was really demons, the weather changes and livestock genocides seemed choreographed, somehow.

‘Yes, I want to see if its like the last place.’

‘Sure, we can-‘

‘Hey!’ Sam interrupted Dean, and snapped his fingers in the air in front of him. Castiel looked up apprehensively, and saw Sam wearing what Dean often dubbed The Ultimate Bitchface. ‘Dean, can we talk a minute?’

Dean withdrew his hand from Castiel finally, and followed Sam out into the backyard. Castiel chanced a look at Becky.

‘I’m sorry, Becky.’

‘I get it. You’re crazy about him. Dean’s usually really angry when I’m around but he seems happy with you. It’s just … it sounded like he was hurting you.’

‘Dean could never hurt me.’ Castiel gave a small smile. ‘But I am sorry. I told Dean last night that I was worried we’d upset you-‘

‘Oh. Oh! No, Castiel, don’t feel bad. If Sam looked at me the way Dean looks at you, I wouldn’t think about it either. I’d be lost in his eyes.’

‘Is everything okay with you and Sam?’ Castiel asked as sincerely as he could. Becky smiled, her innocent joy evident in her expression.

‘More than okay! He said we could go out tonight, on an actual date, and he’d see how it went. He’s never been like this before, I’m so excited.’

She grabbed Castiel’s hand, and squeezed it tightly, and Castiel smiled warmly at her, opening his arms awkwardly for an embrace. She gladly hugged him as Sam walked into the room, looking angry, and they dropped their arms in unison, both of them looking incredibly guilty. Sam raised his eyebrows as Becky stepped away, and then he surprised them both by wrapping an arm around Becky’s shoulders.

‘I told Dean,’ Sam muttered. Castiel felt like he was invading a private moment between them.

‘I told Castiel. That’s why he was hugging me.’ Becky smiled up to Sam, and Castiel made to move away, but he was stopped by Dean, walking in the room and wrapping his arms around the angel without a word. Castiel held him back without hesitation, knowing that Becky at the very least was fine with it. Sam groaned, and Castiel made himself not care about Sam’s irritation, which was easier when he heard Becky’s whisper.

‘Oh Sam, leave them alone. They’re in love.’

Castiel wanted to squeeze Dean harder, because of course he was in love with the human, but he knew that Dean could probably hear it too, and he waited for Dean’s inevitable snide comment in reply. None came. Did that mean … was it too much to hope … did Dean love him back? Yes, they were a couple; yes, they had just had some very loud, and very good sex; but love? Was it too much for the angel to hope that Dean’s silence was confirmation of his feelings?

Sam and Becky began to discuss the article they’d found, making plans to visit it in the next few minutes, and Dean raised his head from Castiel’s shoulder, looking at him steadily as he grinned back enthusiastically. Dean’s expression was serious, but Castiel could see the tenderness in his eyes. He felt his hope soar.

In the distance, Castiel was aware of the doorbell ringing, but he could only focus on Dean, on leaning forward and tasting those perfect lips once again. They stood in the front room, kissing softly, until a loud girl’s voice permeated their little bubble.

‘Dean!’

Dean pulled away instantly, wrapping his arms around the short redhead who stood beside them, laughing as he did so. Castiel felt a strong stab of jealousy - Dean never greeted him like that. He took an instant dislike to this cheery, ginger-haired girl.

‘Charlie! I knew you were coming, but that was fast!’

‘Yeah, well, I always planned to come visit Becky, there was a convention about half an hour away from here. I’m giving up meeting Stan Lee for the fourth time for you. Respect, bitch!’ She let go of Dean and looked at Castiel. ‘Hey, so this is your angel?’

‘Mmm, yep, this is my Cas.’ Dean smiled at Castiel, who looked back blankly. How could Dean be so casual about this girl?

‘Nice to meet you.’ Charlie grinned, holding out her hand. Castiel looked down on it with barely-concealed distain.

‘Nice to meet you, too.’ He finally said, after too long a pause. Dean changed the subject quickly.

‘Well, we’re going to check out these demon signs Becky keeps spotting, are you in? And you can tell me just how in the hell you and Becky even met.’

They started moving back through the house, leaving Castiel alone, and he slumped on the sofa as he heard Charlie explain how few people are even into the books, and they were just about the only girls in the fandom, they had to team up. Castiel didn’t care, he didn’t want to know. He only wanted to know how on earth Charlie had such an affect on his Dean, how Dean could be so enthusiastic about hugging her when it had taken so long for Dean to even kiss him in front of Sam. He knew the jealousy made no sense, that Dean was his, that he as good as said he loved Castiel, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted Dean that relaxed around him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for any typos - I know there's a lot - and the rushed ending, I'm about to go away for a few days, I still have to pack! But I wanted to update this first!


	13. Chapter 13

Castiel was already bored with Charlie. The entire way to the most recent “demon” site, she talked non-stop with Dean, who seemed far too happy to chatter back about things that Castiel had never even heard of. Was “Moondor” a real thing?

He spent most of the car ride glaring out of the window, not even slightly mollified by Dean holding his hand across the upholstery. In the abandoned car park they’d found, Castiel stayed by the car as Sam and Dean looked around, and the girls stayed away from them slightly, but tried to emulate the brothers. Castiel focused on his hands, rather than any of the humans, considering his current position.

It was difficult. He knew that Vibeke wasn’t going to leave the matter to rest for too long, and he was weary of Meg’s words. He also knew whatever was going on with the Winchesters current investigation, it was in some way connected to Meg’s barely veiled threats. But everything had been going so well with Dean, despite Charlie showing up and dominating all his attention, and Castiel wasn’t ready to relinquish any of it, not even to save the world from whatever the angels or demons were planning. Dean was his priority, and had been since he received the command to retrieve him from Hell.

He knew though, that Sam and Dean would want to put the matter to rest, to know why they were suddenly following false signs of demonic activity. And wouldn’t it make his hunter happy if he got involved, and demanded answers from either Meg or Vibeke? Then he could solve the case for Dean.

‘Nothing?’ Sam called out in the distance. Castiel couldn’t hear Dean’s answer, but he could hear the hushed tones of the girls chattering close by. He chose to ignore them, dwelling instead on the last few days with Dean, remembering every touch, the taste of Dean’s tongue, the strong buzzing feeling in his chest, the heat that grew between them-

‘Hey, everything okay?’ Dean appeared, and pressed his legs between Castiel’s, leaning in close, making sure he grabbed Castiel’s attention.

‘Fine.’

‘Well, you’re right. No sulphur, no nothing.’ Dean took hold of Castiel’s chin and lifted it gently, stooping slightly to press his lips against the angel’s. ‘Wanna take a guess what we’re dealing with?’

Castiel didn’t know how to answer that, but it didn’t seem as though Dean truly wanted him to either, because he was covering Castiel in yet more kisses, his hands running up the lapels of Castiel’s trench coat. Could Dean sense the way Castiel was feeling? Was he reacting to that? Castiel didn’t know, but he was grateful for Dean’s attention.

‘Seriously, Dean, Cas, can you not put it away for ten minutes?’ Sam complained as he stood between Becky and Charlie. ‘We should go look for witnesses, see what’s going on.’

Dean turned away to face his brother, his hands still all over the angel.

‘Were there any witnesses?’

Castiel zoned out again as they argued between themselves, concentrating instead on the way Dean’s hand lay on his chest, warm and firm and making his heart rate spike. Dean could feel that, surely?

And then suddenly, everyone was moving, climbing back into the car. Dean pressed one more kiss against Castiel’s lips, and sighed heavily.

‘Sam and I won’t be long, okay? Take care of the girls for us.’

Had Castiel agreed to let Dean and Sam go without him? Or had everyone decided on his behalf?

‘Don’t leave me behind.’

‘I’ll make it up to you, promise. Sam and Becky are going out tonight, we’ll stay in and make our own fun.’

Castiel nodded, feeling a shiver along his spine at the promise Dean was making. That promise was enough for him to zap himself into the car, to hold on until that night, when the hunter would set his entire vessel on fire.

Dean drove back to Becky’s house, letting the car idle as Charlie and Becky shuffled out. Castiel gave Dean one long, lingering look through the rear view mirror, and Dean smouldered back, before the angel also climbed out of the car, following the giggling girls into the house.

Becky and Charlie settled in the living room, and Castiel followed them in hesitantly. He didn’t want to spend any time with them, but Dean had asked him to look after them, and of course he wanted to make Dean happy. This time around, however, he couldn’t filter out their excitable chatter.

‘I can’t believe Sam said he’d go out with you, after all the wedding stuff.’ Charlie grinned, curling up in the armchair, her back against one arm rest and her shoeless feet crossed at the ankles, propped against the other. Castiel sat cautiously on the padded window seat, as Becky perched primly on the sofa, her infectious smile in place.

‘I know! I thought when they showed up at my door that they were going to kill me. I never thought I’d been talking to Sam all this time. And even though he lied about his name, and he yelled a little, I forgive him. I guess we’re just meant to be.’

She sighed happily, curling her fingers into her lap, and Castiel gave her a small smile as Charlie rolled her eyes.

‘Dude, come on, it’s one date. You’re not getting remarried. Like, I’m happy for you and all, but I don’t think Sam wants to rush anything.’

‘I know, I know, but it’s fated, you know? He came back. Like that poem. I set him free, he came back. He was always mine.’

‘I want you happy, you know that right? But you sound completely crazy right now. That’s all I’m saying.’

‘Love can make people crazy,’ Cas blurted out, accidentally joining in the girl talk. He hadn’t wanted to, but he felt like Charlie was being completely unfair to Becky. She didn’t sound at all happy for Becky and Sam, she sounded like poison. Was she doing the same to Dean? What was her problem with people being happy together, anyway? Becky gave Castiel an understanding look, but Charlie eyed him warily, before standing up and stretching.

‘Whatever, I need some snacks.’

‘Good idea, I have these cookies somewhere that are out of this world!’ Becky stood too, grabbing Charlie’s hand and pulling her along to the kitchen, both of them now babbling about their favourite cookies. Castiel sighed, and leaned back against the glass. How much longer would Dean be?

*

The day without Dean passed slowly and torturously. When the girls returned from the kitchen, they approached Castiel with the same wicked gleam in their eyes, and then Charlie had held him down as Becky poked and prodded at his face with soft brushes and tough bristles and strange pads, all smeared with colour. Castiel could easily have fought Charlie off, and he almost did, but Becky had laughed and promised him that they wouldn’t go too far, and somehow he’d found himself agreeing to this unusual torture.

After they had exhausted their enthusiasm for slathering his face in multicoloured powders, they had made him sit on the floor and toyed with his hair, clipping it and brushing it through. At one point, there were fingers running their way along his scalp, and he closed his eyes, immediately thinking of the way Dean scratched his head as they talked. Dean seemed to love doing it to him, and he enjoyed the sensation just as much normally, but there was something off-putting about the two girls doing it. They weren’t as firm, they didn’t apply enough pressure. He wanted _Dean_.

Eventually, they left him alone, and he instantly made the stuff on his face disappear as he tugged the clips out of his hair. The girls were exhausting. But now they were quiet and Castiel didn’t trust that either. He needed to find them so he could report back to Dean and Sam that he had kept an eye on both the women. And then Dean would reward him in the privacy of their bedroom by taking his breath away and making him scream in blind passion. Castiel couldn’t wait. What had he been so afraid of?

He wandered the house, looking for the girls, and found them in the bathroom with more lotions and products that Dean and Sam never used. They were working together in silence, so Castiel walked back into the room he’d been sharing with Dean, sitting on the bed in the spot that Dean had taken that morning during their tryst, and reliving every moment. The bed smelled of Dean and Castiel found himself clutching a pillow close, sniffing it and feeling a strong ache in his chest. How long was Dean going to be?

‘Don’t you think he’s weird?’ Charlie’s voice broke through Castiel’s thoughts.

‘Who?’

‘Castiel. He’s nothing like I expected from the books.’

‘Really? I thought he’s a lot like that. I mean, he’s around a lot more than the books say, but then again, he’s dating Dean now.’

‘And that’s not weird to you?’

Castiel couldn’t shut out their conversation if he’d tried. They were too close. Did they even know he could hear them?

‘Come on Charlie, as soon as Sam and Dean told you it was all true, didn’t weird get a new perspective? Sam’s had the devil inside him, Dean dating an angel is all relative.’

‘You’re far too perky for your own good, you know that Becky?’

‘He’s nice. Castiel stood up for me. That might be the only reason that Sam gave me a chance, you know. Give him some time.’

‘You sound like Dean.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment, coming from you.’

‘I get the feeling he hates me.’

‘Who, Castiel?’

‘Yeah.’

Castiel pulled the pillow away from his face, surprised that Charlie had been so astute. One of the girls began to whimper, biting back a scream, and Castiel wondered whether he should check in on them again.

‘Okay, painless hair removal _my ass_. Think we can ask Dean’s favourite celestial boy toy for some help? You know, so long as he doesn’t rip my leg off.’

Castiel had no desire to join in with the girls. But he heard their footsteps moving, and knew they were coming to look for him. He saw the things he’d grabbed from the bunker still lying on the desk and realised Dean wouldn’t want them to see any of it. He quickly sent it all back to Dean’s room in the bunker, and put the pillow back hastily as the door swung open, and the girls walked in, their legs an unusual white colour.

’So, we tried waxing. We failed. You couldn’t like, angel magic the way you do in the books and get this stuff off our legs? Along with all the hair?’ Charlie flicked her red hair back behind her shoulders as she looked down at Castiel. He watched Becky instead, who had slid behind Charlie slightly, looking pensive. As though Castiel would rage at her the way that Sam or Dean would.

‘Why would you want to remove hair from your body?’

‘It’s a girl thing.’  
Castiel sighed. This was another thing in his lover’s favour, as far as he could see, that he didn’t spend an unnecessary amount of time preening and messing about with his glorious body. He did as they asked as the door opened and closed downstairs, and they heard Dean call, his voice low and urgent and hitting Castiel straight in the groin. The hunter definitely needed to use that voice the next time they were having sex.

‘Charlie? Becky? Cas!’

They heard Sam’s quieter voice speaking to his brother, though Castiel could make out the words that the girls could not.

‘I should probably get ready. That’s probably what Becky’s doing, anyway.’

‘Probably.’

Castiel smiled as Dean followed this up with a grunt, followed by the sound of pounding feet on the staircase, and then the sounds of the girls yelping as he nipped their sides gently with his hands, making them move out of the way. The angel watched as his gaze swept across the room, looking for all evidence of their previous love-making, and then fixated on the bed. On him.

‘Hey, you okay?’ Dean purred. Castiel nodded, his chest burning with need, as Charlie turned to Dean.

‘So hey, Sam’s taking Becky out tonight, we need a major catch up session. Wanna watch some movies, eat some junk food, and just hang out?’

‘Sure, maybe we could braid each other’s hair.’ Dean smirked back, winking in Castiel’s direction.

‘I mean it, Dean. You can kick back, not worry about hunting, and we can chat, watch bad movies, eat pizza and chips and rate the women on screen.’

‘That does sound good,’ Dean admitted, looking away from Castiel to smile at the redhead. The angel felt trampled by the puny human girl. Was she purposefully trying to get between them? And she wondered why he seemed resentful of her. No one came between him and Dean.

*

Later that evening, after Becky had disappeared to get ready and Charlie managed to rope Dean and Castiel into going on a supply run, Sam finally declared it time. He offered a newly made-up Becky his arm and they were gone before Dean could call out anything to embarrass his brother. As the door closed behind the new couple, Charlie grabbed Dean’s arm.

‘Come on, first one in the TV room gets to pick the movie. I will make you watch something fluffy just to annoy you.’

She dragged him along behind her, leaving Castiel to follow them slowly. He still didn’t trust Charlie, especially around Dean. When he reached the room, Charlie was putting a disc into the Blu-Ray player, and Dean was laying across one sofa, his arms held out for Castiel. He willingly fell into them, curling up into Dean’s chest, their legs threading together as they watched the commercials play at the start of the disc. Castiel could barely concentrate on whatever movie Dean and Charlie had decided on while he was laying on Dean, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath him, and the hunter’s fingers curling through his hair absent-mindedly. The warmth of Dean’s torso through their clothes, and how their bodies fit together, Castiel’s narrow chest curving around his boyfriend’s solid one, his hips pressing in slightly to Dean’s abs, their legs slotting together in such a way that it made Castiel know he was there for the long haul.

Dean’s eyes were trained on the television screen, and when Castiel realised that Dean just wanted closeness, he didn’t want to make out, he curled up under the hunter’s chin and just enjoyed the intimacy. He even tried to watch the movie that Charlie had picked, because that was what Dean seemed to want to do, though he wasn’t sure what to make of a bunch of men running around in spandex amidst a lot of explosions. Admittedly, he was finding it hard to concentrate on the movie while Dean was playing with his hair, and while they were pressed together so tightly.

This was what he had been wanting, a closeness to the hunter that went beyond words, that transcended the physical. And it was there, it was all his, and with the person he most wanted. He couldn’t savour Dean’s touch enough, couldn’t stop time the way he wanted to make it last. He felt as though he were clinging on to something sacred with his fingertips.

Dean flexed his thick biceps, squeezing Castiel closer to his chest, and the angel kissed his collarbone gently, trying to convey without words how he was feeling. The hunter’s response was to knead his fingers slightly harder into his scalp, and Castiel hoped that meant the message was received.

‘Hey Dean?’ Charlie’s voice cut through Castiel’s bliss. He’d forgotten than she was curled up on another seat. ‘Want a beer?’

‘Yeah, sure Charlie.’ Dean’s voice rumbled through Castiel’s entire being, and he snuggled even closer into the hunter

‘Good, me too. They’re in the kitchen. Grab me one?’

‘Eat me, Charlie.’

‘Hmmm, think I’ll leave that to your boyfriend. In the meantime, get me a beer, bitch.’

‘God, you’re annoying sometimes,’ Dean breathed, but then he wriggled slightly, and Castiel understood that he was giving in to Charlie. The angel felt the urge to curl up against Dean, to make it difficult for the hunter to move from his position because it was so comfortable laying with him, but he knew he couldn’t get away with that. So he sat up and let Dean go.

The hunter stood up, and launched himself at Charlie, who began giggling, and screeching as Dean picked her up. She grabbed hold of his neck tightly, kicking her legs as she squealed, and Castiel felt a pull in his stomach as he watched how free and easy they were together. He would love for Dean to pick him up like that.

He felt only slightly mollified when Dean dropped Charlie unceremoniously onto the other couch, and then sat on her stomach, ignoring her pounding fists and continuing screeches.

‘Dammit, Dean, get me a fucking beer.’

‘Make me.’

Castiel watched as Charlie pushed Dean off of her, and towards the kitchen, both of them laughing breathlessly. He let her force him along for a short while, before twisting around and cuffing her around the neck.

‘Dean, you’re such a dick!’

‘Whatever, loser.’

She jabbed a finger into his side as they disappeared from Castiel’s view, though he could hear them giggling and panting and arguing as clearly as if they were still in the room with him.

‘Stop it!’

‘You stop it!’

‘You’re such a fucking child.’

‘And you’re - okay, this is why I tell Sam you’re like the sister I never wanted.’

‘Fuck you.’

Castiel felt his heart sink as he heard them slowly progress to the kitchen. Part of his heartache came from how easily Dean seemed to relate to Charlie, how light and playful he was around her, but another part came from the words he’d just said. Dean considered Charlie family? Castiel knew how big a deal that was to his lover, and yet he’d said it so casually, as if anyone could possibly be counted. Did that mean Castiel wasn’t as important as he’d believed? He couldn’t drown out the sounds of Dean and Charlie, even if he’d wanted to.

‘So, you and Castiel, what’s going on there?’ Charlie slowly stopped giggling.

‘We’re going out?’ Dean sounded sarcastic.

‘No, really?’ Charlie bit back. ‘You know what I mean. You’re different with him.’

‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous.’

‘You’re making out with an angel, I’m a little bit jealous. But come on, I mean, he seems really possessive over you, and back in there … it was like you weren’t Dean anymore.’

‘So what’re you trying to say?’ Now, Dean sounded exasperated.

‘I don’t know, Dean. It’s like he’s doing something to you. And then Sam and Becky were saying earlier that you’ve been having memory problems and I don’t know. Maybe he’s done something.’

‘Done something like what?’

Now Dean sounded annoyed, and Castiel felt his stomach drop. This was why he disliked Charlie, she was about to ruin everything.

‘Like I don’t know, Dean. Taking away any memories that stop you from being a total sap around him? Making you act like you’re whipped? Could he do anything like that?’

There was a terrifying pause before Dean answered, where Castiel thought that all was lost.

‘Cas wouldn’t. He’s not like the other angels, Charlie. He’s not going to dick me over for his own goals. Believe whatever you wanna believe, but me and Cas, it’s … it’s a good thing.’

‘Fine.’

‘Fine.’

The conversation ended there, though Castiel was still listening for all he was worth, and he almost didn’t notice Dean coming back into the room.

‘Did you hear all that?’ he asked. Castiel managed to nod, and he winced. ‘Yeah, well, it’s …’

‘It’s okay, Dean.’ Castiel shrugged. ‘I know it must baffle other people that you’re with another man.’

Dean crossed the room and knelt down in front of the angel, looking up at him with serious eyes, his brow wrinkled and an air of urgency around him that Castiel couldn’t understand the source of.

‘Cas, I’m working around your vessel, okay? I know the difference between you and it.’ He looked over his shoulder at the doorway, which remained empty, and then turned back with a wicked gleam in his eye. ‘Hey, I promised you some private time. Want it now? We can go upstairs and leave Charlie to deal for a few hours on her own.’

‘We’d still have to be quiet.’ Castiel pointed out.

‘So zap us somewhere.’ Dean grinned, and Castiel smiled back. There was something exciting about the idea of having sex with Dean without the worry of Sam overhearing or interrupting. ‘Maybe the same place you zapped the toys earlier?’

Castiel nodded, and held Dean’s shoulder gently, before transporting them back to Dean’s room in the bunker. The hunter looked around and laughed, before scooping up the pink fluffy handcuffs.

‘Where should I cuff you?’

Castiel sucked in a deep breath before forcing himself to answer, to flirt back.

‘Nowhere. I’m cuffing you.’

‘Yeah, good luck with that.’ Dean grinned. Castiel saw the opportunity to play around the way Dean had been playing with Charlie, but at the same time, he was dominated by the idea of touching the hunter’s skin, seeing him naked again, revelling in the time they had to be together. Besides, Dean wasn’t going to be able to compete with his angelic powers. In the next moment, Castiel had him cuffed to the bed, and was crouching over him, looking down at his glorious face.

‘You were saying, Dean?’

‘Okay, new rule. No angel powers in the bedroom.’

‘What if we sleep together anywhere else?’

‘No angel powers when we’re having sex.’

Castiel smirked, bending down to press his lips against Dean’s, his smile growing when he felt the hunter’s sigh breathing against his tongue.

‘I could use my powers so we could keep going,’ he said into Dean’s mouth, not wanting to break their kiss.

‘Like angel tantra?’ Dean moaned softly. Castiel felt it ricochet along his vessel and into his penis, which stiffened quickly.

‘I think I’m going to need it.’

Dean laughed into his mouth, gyrating his hips against Castiel’s, his jeans rubbing heat into the angel’s slacks. They definitely needed help to restrain themselves somehow, because Castiel already felt ready to burst. He lowered himself onto the hunter’s writhing body, moving with him so that they were simulating sex through their clothes. He could already feel himself losing his mind to Dean’s touch, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted Dean’s hands on him, strong and firm, teasing yet tender. He released the hunter, who immediately wrapped his arms around the angel, rolling him over and thrusting into him. Castiel found him moaning his lover’s name over and over, the word beginning to make no sense.

‘I know baby, I know.’ Dean purred as he pulled his arms away to slide his hands underneath Castiel’s shirt, and Castiel sucked in a breath as the hunter’s roughened fingers caressed over his soft stomach.

‘I love you, Dean.’

‘Mmmm, I know.’

Castiel couldn’t pretend he wasn’t disappointed that Dean still hadn’t said those words back, but at least he was still there, pressing his body firmly into the angel’s, kissing him like his grace was a life force the hunter needed to continue to exist. He reminded himself once again that Dean found words difficult, and he spoke with his body. Castiel just had to listen.

He lost track of time, kissing Dean, feeling their bodies pressed tightly together. He knew they were peeling off layers of clothes, their hands caressing and rubbing and stroking every inch of each other’s bodies. He could feel Dean shifting position, rolling him over, until somehow they were off the bed and on the floor, neither of them caring much that the floor was hard, and the fall was sure to leave bruises.

‘I don’t think I can wait to fuck you,’ Dean breathed.

‘I thought we were going to try and last out? Or use some of the things from Amsterdam?’ Castiel gasped back, his eyes rolling as Dean dragged his blunt nails down his torso.

‘I don’t think you can last that long either.’ Dean chuckled, and started working down Castiel’s neck, sucking hard, nibbling along the skin, the angel’s stubble scratching at his lips.

‘Please just try.’

‘Mmmm, would you suck my dick?’

Castiel closed his eyes for a moment. He couldn’t decide it Dean’s request was phrased in a way that turned him on or made him feel cheap.

‘You’re going to suck mine.’ He decided. Dean laughed again.

‘Make me.’

Castiel opened his eyes again, and made himself move, trying to overpower Dean.

‘No angel powers,’ Dean breathed, and they paused with their wrestling.

‘You’re inconsistent with your rules about whether I can use my powers or not.’

‘When it benefits me, you can,’ Dean grinned. Castiel smiled back, and suddenly Dean was naked except for the leather-string outfit, and the cock ring.

‘Does this benefit you?’ Castiel asked innocently. Dean looked down at himself, and then back up to his lover, before resuming their tryst, the angel grabbing hold of the leather thongs around Dean’s hips and using that as leverage. Somehow, they ended up turning around, and Castiel found his head in the hunter’s crotch as he wrapped his legs around Dean’s head.

‘There’s no winners here, are there?’ Dean’s voice was muffled, but there was a playful tone to it as well.

‘I think we’re both going to win,’ Castiel said happily, turning on the cock ring and embracing the renewed sound of Dean moaning.

‘You play dirty.’

‘You love dirty.’

Castiel felt Dean’s tongue run along his phallus, and knew that was Dean’s response. He went further, and reached over to lick along the hunter’s testicles, and up towards his anus.

‘Shit, Cas!’ Dean squirmed away. ‘Don’t make me blow before I’m even in your mouth.’

‘Did you like it?’ Castiel asked. He wasn’t sure about the taste of Dean’s body at the point he’d licked, but he’d enjoyed the way it made Dean twitch.

‘Way too much.’ Dean groaned. ‘Dude, we should get the lube. I bet you’ll taste like pie with that on your junk.’

He used his angelic power to make the lube appear in Dean’s hand, listening as the hunter squeezed the tube, and then feeling the wet sticky sensation of the lube on his penis, before Dean began licking and sucking and groaning again. He could have sworn he heard his lover breathe the word pie before he began returning Dean’s attentions, working his own way along Dean’s shaft, bracing himself against the cold floor as he did so.

It was difficult to focus. Almost all of his attention was on what was happening to his vessel, but he knew he had to make himself perform just as well. He wondered if it was just as difficult for Dean to maintain his rhythm, but he didn’t want to ask, and potentially ruin the moment. And despite the extra exertion it required, Castiel was enjoying himself. It felt good, he knew it felt good to Dean, and they were doing what they wanted with reckless abandon. He needed to zap Dean away from everyone else for their lovemaking more often. Or just away from everyone else generally.

Dean spurted down Castiel’s throat, groaning loudly as he did so, and the angel swallowed hard, feeling his own body emptying into Dean. And then they were both laying on the floor, breathing heavily, their sides pressed against each other, revelling in the aftermath of what they’d done together.

‘You’re real good at that,’ Dean eventually said, and crawled across the floor so that he was laying on Castiel instead. The angel looked up into Dean’s face, smiling dreamily, and noticed how dark Dean’s eyes looked. He could barely see the green irises around the enlarged pupils. He found himself tracing a finger around the hunter’s eye sockets. ‘You okay Cas?’

‘Of course, I’m with you.’

Dean chuckled quietly, before leaning closer and pressing his lips gently against Castiel’s forehead.

‘Hey Cas?’ he whispered, and continued speaking as though he’d been acknowledged. ‘I’m real happy right now.’

‘Me too.’ Castiel whispered back. ‘I don’t want to go back to Becky’s house yet.’

‘We don’t have to. We’ll stay here for a while longer. I still want to be in you.’

Dean started to stroke along the angel’s torso, and Castiel tangled his fingers into the hunter’s short, spiky hair.

‘Dean?’ Castiel broke the silence that they were beginning to sink into. Dean kissed his lower lip as a response. ‘I’m confused about something.’

‘What, why I’m still wearing this stupid leather thing? It’s sticking in places I didn’t think I had.’

Castiel removed the leather outfit, but didn’t let Dean distract him from ploughing on. He knew that the hunter would probably get upset when he brought it up, but he didn’t want yet another issue hanging over them.

‘No, when you were talking to Charlie, you said she was like a sister.’

‘Yeah.’ Dean nodded, as though it wasn’t a big deal, though Castiel knew it was important.

‘But you’ve said we’re like family before-‘

Dean burst out laughing, and Castiel was momentarily distracted by the slap of their stomachs against each other.

‘Babe, it’s not the same thing. Promise. Is that why she thinks you hate her?’

‘I don’t hate her.’

‘I know.’ Dean’s hands settled on his stomach. ‘Trust me, there’s no chance of anything between Charlie and me.’

Castiel didn’t respond, and Dean pressed more kisses along his face.

‘Babe, I want you, you know that. And I’m not Charlie’s type.’

‘Perfect isn’t Charlie’s type?’ Castiel wondered aloud. Dean’s smirk faded.

‘I’m not perfect Cas, you know that. And Charlie’s into girls.’

‘So were you,’ Castiel reminded him. Dean groaned, and straddled Castiel, letting his weight sink onto every inch of the angel’s body.

‘It’s different. Stop being so insecure, okay?’

‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry, just,’ Dean kissed him again, making the collision of their lips and their tongues be the end of his sentence. Castiel could feel his body responding to the hunter’s touch, kissing him back with enthusiasm, and suddenly things were picking up again, Dean’s hands grazing down his body until they hooked under his knees. Then he pulled Castiel’s legs up and apart, settling in between them, their groins pressed together, still sticky from the earlier tryst.

Dean had taken charge again, as he resumed kissing, licking and biting the angel’s neck, timing it with the way he rocked his hips so they rubbed against each other.

‘Sex with you is my type,’ Dean whispered as he nibbled Castiel’s clavicle.

‘You’re my type.’ Castiel promised back, and then let out a loud groan as Dean began trailing his fingers along the angel’s inner thighs. He reached around wildly, and found the tube of lube, now squished badly and nearly empty, already, though there was enough for them to use at that moment. Castiel squirted some onto his hands, and then massaged the cool gel onto his own phallus, his eyes rolling back as he did so. Dean noticed what he was doing.

‘Cas?’

‘I know what you said, Dean, but please, can we swap it around?’

Dean pulled himself back up Castiel’s torso, looking at the angel with too-dark eyes.

‘Do you mean you wanna claim my ass?’

Castiel felt his cheeks flame with heat, and there was a tense pause as Dean processed the request.

‘I don’t know, Cas.’

‘Let me try.’

Dean sighed, but didn’t resist as Castiel’s hands slid slowly down his muscular body, and onto his firm rear. He tried to remember everything that the hunter had done to him only that morning, as he felt his way down the cleft of his buttocks. It was a different experience, trying to pleasure Dean, especially as they were staring into each other’s eyes as his hands continued to make progress.

He finally found his target, and began trying to wiggle a finger inside, pausing as Dean winced.

‘Did I hurt you?’ Castiel asked in a low voice. Dean shook his head, eyes closed. ‘Should I carry on?’

There was an awkward paused, before Dean nodded hastily, eyes still pressed together. He managed to slip a finger inside, noticing how hot and tight then hunter’s body was around him.

‘Guinea pig,’ Dean moaned quietly, and Castiel froze.

‘Dean?’

‘I can’t do it, Cas.’

Castiel removed himself from Dean completely, and lay still underneath him. That’s what he was meant to do if Dean said that phrase, wasn’t it?

‘Cas? I still want to … I just can’t … sorry.’

‘It’s okay Dean.’

They lay together quietly for a long while, before Dean began stroking along Castiel’s thighs again.

‘Can we just do it how we did last time? Is that okay?’

Castiel nodded, and let Dean ease the lube out of his hands, forcing what was left out. He curled his legs around Dean’s as the hunter’s fingers began probing him, and he made sure to look into Dean’s eyes again. He could feel himself falling apart under Dean’s touch, even as he pushed both of their legs further apart, giving his lover more leverage to delve inside him. The air seemed to crackle with electricity as they moved together, slotting together in a way that just seemed to make sense. He got lost in the hunter’s eyes, in the rhythm of their bodies rocking together, and the slap of skin on skin as he moaned loudly, feeling full of Dean.

It seemed to last forever, looking into Dean’s eyes and being fucked senseless by him, but Castiel was okay with that. He didn’t ever want it to stop, because this more than anything else felt like Dean was saying it back, was feeling the same way. But eventually Dean stopped, flopping down heavily onto him, and they lay silently together, panting. Time seemed to pause as they lay still, pressed against each other, Dean still inside him, their bodies slick with sweat and semen, and Castiel had no desire to be anywhere else. It seemed wrong to speak, to break the unspoken silence between them, as though it would undo some spell they’d fallen under.

After a few minutes - or hours, or days, Castiel was losing track - there was an odd vibrating sound near the bed.

‘Is that the cock ring?’ Dean asked lazily.

‘No, you’re still wearing that.’ Castiel thought his voice sounded loud in the stillness of the bunker. Dean’s hand slid down, and he laughed softly after a moment.

‘Oh yeah. Must be my cell.’

He pulled out of Castiel slowly, and the angel wanted to beg him to stay. He bestowed a quick kiss on his lover, before shuffling back over to the bed, and grabbing the phone.

‘Sam’s back from his date, wants to know where we are. Guess the party’s over.’

He flipped the phone back onto the bed, and looked back at his naked lover as Castiel watched his every moment.

‘Come on, we’ll clean up quickly, then go see what he wants.’

Castiel sighed, but nodded, straightening the bunker, removing all the things they’d used from sight, and zapping their clothes back on. Dean pulled him close for another kiss before allowing Castiel to return them to Becky’s house. They arrived back in the spare room, and Dean led the way down the stairs and into the main room, where Becky, Sam and Charlie all stood with two other females. Castiel felt his heart sink as he looked over Dean’s shoulder and recognised them both.

‘Meg?’ Dean spluttered out, as the other woman stared hard at Castiel. He swallowed around a now dry throat.

‘Hello Vibeke.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long silence, This chapter took me forever. The counterpart took me three days, this took me two weeks. I did this one first, that might have been my issue. Somehow, the story flows better when I write Dean's version first :/ if you're not reading it yet, please do! Although it follows the same storyline, they're very different, and if you're a Sam girl there's a lot more of him in it. I think I've done the url right: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1783438/chapters/3820582
> 
> It may take me a while to update again, it's my friend's wedding soon, and then an Asylum, and work in between, and I'm working on a few other fanfics/prepping for NaNo as well. Phew!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter! I think I might be pushing the boundaries too far :/


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorynotsorry

Vibeke turned to look at Dean once she had addressed Castiel, and he dropped his gaze to his feet. He knew what she was there for. He knew he’d have to think fast to protect Dean from what was coming, to phrase things just so that Vibeke and Meg couldn’t call him out on his lies, but would protect Dean, would protect their relationship. It wasn’t going to be easy, especially when Dean took charge, as he usually did.

‘So I’m guessing you’re the two demons we’ve been tracing, huh?’ Dean sounded annoyed. Castiel knew he was already agitated about being called back from their time together, and then seeing Meg would have set him on edge further. Of course his mind went straight to the case, rather than getting the angel and the demon out of the house as soon as possible.

‘Don’t insult me.’ Vibeke snapped back, using her grace to amplify her voice slightly. Castiel’s gaze remained firmly locked on his feet. Maybe he could just force them from the house, and then spin some excuse for Dean? Would that work? Or would it only be a very temporary solution?

‘Then what are you? And why the hell are you here?’ Dean continued to press. Castiel looked sideways at him, accidentally catching Vibeke’s eye as he did so. She looked appalled, as though she knew exactly what Dean and Castiel had been doing before they entered the room. Part of Castiel wanted her to know, wanted her to understand that he would do anything for Dean, and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

‘Do you even communicate with your pet?’

Castiel sucked in a deep breath, ready to put her in her place, but Meg steam-rollered over him to insult Dean.

‘I’m going to guess that even if they do talk, it’s basic stuff like pie, cars, blahblahblah. Dean’s very simplistic.’ She purred in her usual drawling tone. Castiel looked away from her in disgust, looking at his feet. As much as he wanted to stand up to her, he didn’t want her to blab to Dean about the events at the carnival. Sam spoke up, and Castiel realised that he’d been prompted by some silent signal of Dean’s.

‘I don’t know man, they appeared just after I texted you.’

Castiel finally spoke up, determined to give Dean some concrete information. He had the edge after all, being Dean’s boyfriend. Didn’t he?

‘Vibeke is another angel. I would assume she’s been covering Meg’s tracks, which is why I couldn’t detect any demons.’

‘Very smart, Castiel. We’ve been looking for her. She’s good at hiding her computer signal, it took a few tries.’

Castiel knew that Meg had been gesturing, but he couldn’t lift his eyes from his shoes. He didn’t have to wonder which “her” Meg was referring to for long, at least.

‘And why do you want me?’ Becky sounded scared, intimidated. Castiel wanted to protect her as much as he wanted to protect Dean from what could be coming. He should have paid more attention, he could have realised that the fake sites were drawing closer to Becky’s house and advised them to take precautions. He could have intercepted Meg and Vibeke and kept them away from Dean. But all he could think of was getting closer to Dean, of their physical relationship. What did Sam call it? “Thinking with his dick”. Castiel had definitely been doing that.

‘We don’t, not really. We just thought you might have been a decent access point.’

‘Okay, one of you needs to actually explain what the hell, or I’m going to start ganking.’ Dean growled in his usual terse tone. Castiel fought a smile at how predictably Dean it was. But he fought it well, because after all, if they began explaining then he wouldn’t be able to soften the blow, to explain it in the right way.

‘I told you, Dean’s a complete Neanderthal.’ Meg drawled again. Castiel was thankful that she at least was distracted enough by the opportunity to insult Dean. That would buy him some time to think, although he was finding it difficult when he was also listening to the conversation taking place just in front of him.

‘I’ve given Castiel time to discuss it with you, Dean. He clearly isn’t willing to talk, so I feel I must. We were trying to find the girl online who was discussing hunting, we assumed she would know you.’

Vibeke’s tone was businesslike, and Castiel felt nothing but loathing for her. He also wasn’t convinced that this was in any way the sort of work she should be carrying out in her position. Did no other angels care that her position was compromised when it came to him?

‘And what was so important you had to try and play Chinese Whispers on a chance?’

‘You’re to end this.’

Castiel knew, without raising his head, that she was addressing him again, and ignoring Dean. He knew that if it wasn’t for Dean speaking up and being his usual obstinate self, Vibeke wouldn’t have wasted any breath on him at all.

‘No, Vibeke. I told you how I felt then, it still stands. I’m sorry.’

‘And I’m sorry too, Castiel, my hands are tied. You know that.’ She cleared her throat and her voice became more rigid. ‘You must end this relationship with Castiel.’

‘And why would I want to do that?’ Dean sounded petulant as he replied, and Castiel groaned internally. Of all the questions Dean could ask, he had to pick the one that would create the most work for Castiel.

‘Because he knows he shouldn’t be with a human, he knows he’s done wrong, and he knows he’s meant to be with me!’

Everyone fell silent as Vibeke’s words rang around the room. Castiel could feel his palms sweating and his heart rate spiking, and he knew it was over. He’d never have the chance to talk to Dean about everything the way he wanted to, bringing it up slowly and calmly so that the hunter would still want him. Dean would yell back, and it would all come out, and Castiel wouldn’t be able to explain that he’d done it for them, that he’d acted out of love and he’d never, ever try to hurt Dean.

‘Yeah, now you just sound jealous, Vib,’ Meg sounded apathetic at best. Was that the way it had come across to Dean? That Vibeke was jealous? Because then Castiel still had a chance, surely? But Meg wasn’t done talking. ‘Basically, Winchester, everyone knows about Cas screwing around with your memories, and there’s some crap about angels not being allowed to mate with humans. Oh, and Cas is betrothed to Vibeke, so she’s pissed about that. And I’m just here to watch your world fall apart.’

Castiel did not dare raise his gaze from his feet. He tried to get a sense of what Dean was thinking, or feeling, but the hunter was as closed off as ever. He almost seemed emotionless in the pause that followed Meg’s words, the small increment of time that stretched forever in front of Castiel, threatening to end all of his happiness. Whatever Dean was thinking, however he was processing the information and deciding what to do with it, he was keeping it from absolutely everyone. Even Castiel. When he finally spoke, the angel felt relief flood into every cell in his being.

‘Sorry to burst your bubble, babe, but that’s not going to happen.’

This had to be a sign that Dean loved him, that even though Vibeke and Meg were standing in front of them, laying out Castiel’s most selfish actions, Dean was still choosing to stand beside him, no matter what. He would never doubt the hunter’s intentions again, not after this. They were united, inseparable. Castiel smiled to himself at the thought.

‘Even though Cas has been deleting your memories? Even then?’ Vibeke pushed on, like Meg’s words had supported her point fully, instead of increasing Dean’s determination to ignore them both. Castiel knew that Dean would disregard her words completely, purely because she was obviously jealous of what they had. They were safe because of her inability to control herself.

‘He wouldn’t.’

Castiel could not have loved the human more than at that moment. He would give anything for that kind of unshakable faith in anything.

‘Dean.’ Sam cut into the conversation, and Castiel wished he wouldn’t. It sounded as though Sam were on Vibeke and Meg’s side, and that would not help Castiel keep Dean. Especially when he took so much of Sam’s opinion on board, however little Sam believed he did.

‘Leave it, Sam.’ Dean was abrupt with his brother, and Castiel made a mental note to repair the brothers once everything was over, as much as Sam’s reaction irritated him. Dean carried on, his words barely concealing the anger that he must have been feeling. Castiel could hear it in every syllable he spoke, clipping his words and making him over-enunciate. ‘You know what I see here? I see two chicks who’re after something they can’t have, and they’ll screw it up for anyone who’s getting in the way. So I’m sorry that you can’t have Cas, but he’s mine. Now, are you going to leave willingly, or am I going to have to make you? Because I’ve got an angel blade.’

If Castiel were a female in a romance story, at this point he would swoon over Dean’s masculinity, his bloody-mindedness. This was why he loved the hunter, his determination, his self-assurance in times of conflict, he was the perfect package. And he belonged to the angel.

‘You’ll lose your grace, Castiel. You’ll lose everything.’ Vibeke made one last attempt to appeal to Castiel’s better nature. But she still wasn’t paying attention, in Castiel’s eyes, because Dean was his better nature. Even if he lost his grace, he’d still have Dean.

‘I think you should leave, Vibeke.’ He spoke up, realising as he did so that he hadn’t contributed much to the argument, that he had been so internal that Dean had done most of the talking. It had all amounted to the same thing in the end, Vibeke and Meg were leaving, and he was standing beside the hunter, where he belonged.

‘This isn’t over.’ Vibeke threatened. Dean bristled slightly before biting out his reply.

‘Think it is.’

Everything went quiet again, and Castiel wondered why Dean wasn’t moving closer to him, winding their fingers together, or pressing close in an embrace that was tender, and passionate, and affirming, all at once. Did he not feel like it was a victory too? Did he not want to celebrate getting rid of another risk to their relationship? Maybe he was waiting for Castiel to look up, to stare into each others eyes as they did frequently.

‘Are they definitely gone?’ Sam broke the silence. Castiel looked up, scanning the room and the surrounding area quickly with all of his senses.

‘Yes.’ He breathed a sigh of relief, and then placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. The hunter hadn’t moved since they had set foot into the room and into the conflict. But he surprised Castiel, by shrugging his shoulder violently, knocking the angel’s hand away. Castiel felt baffled. ‘Dean-‘

The hunter turned slowly, his expression full of fury. He looked so angry that Castiel took a huge step back, his gaze sweeping straight back to his feet. Dean wasn’t supposed to be angry, not after he stood up for their relationship, not after he put up such a fight for Castiel. When he started talking, almost yelling at Castiel, he didn’t hold back at all.

‘I wrote it off when Charlie said it. But some random angel chick and Meg - _Meg_ \- say it too?’

Castiel raised his head slightly, blinking furiously. He couldn’t make sense of it. So Dean believed it, knew it to be the truth. Why did he lie to Meg and Vibeke then? Why not give them the break up that they’d been after?

‘How long’ve you been doing it?’ Dean demanded, and Castiel felt flustered. Did Dean think it was still going on? Castiel couldn’t even remember the last time he’d done it.

‘Dean, I-‘

‘How long have you been screwing with my head?’

Castiel wanted to look anywhere but at Dean, at the anger on his face and the hostility radiating from him. He looked around the room, at Charlie shaking her head slowly, and Becky biting her lip worriedly. At Sam, who looked both disappointed and resigned. None of their expressions were any easier to take than Dean’s.

‘How long have you been erasing my memories, Cas? Do you know how fucking stupid that is?’

Castiel looked to his feet again, unable to speak. It was so much worse than he’d expected, having Dean find out what he’d been doing. He wanted to explain, to make sure Dean understood before it all came out, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want a fight. How did he begin to explain now?

‘Dean, it’s not-‘

‘Give them back.’

Give them _back_? Dean made it sound so simple, and yet it made Castiel feel nauseated just thinking about how Dean would take their rough start, whether he’d realise just how inexperienced Castiel was at the beginning of their relationship. He should have just given Dean all his memories back when he had the chance, and dealt with the blow out then.

‘What, did I reject you or something? Is that what you’re making me forget?’

‘No, Dea-‘

‘It was rhetorical, Castiel.’

There wasn’t a trace of humour to Dean’s words like there might normally be when he’d incorrectly guessed the correct response. But more than that, Dean had used his full name. Dean rarely did that. He always said Cas. He was the one who started shortening his name, it belonged to him. Castiel got the sense that he had done it on purpose, to try to get under his skin. He wasn’t finished.

‘They’re my fucking memories, you don’t get to pick which ones I keep. Why the fuck did you do it?’

When Dean phrased it like that, it sounded so unreasonable, to reset his mind over and over. “Because I love you” seemed like such a poor reasoning for a decision that at the time worked for the both of them.

‘You can answer that one, douchebag.’

‘Dean-‘ Castiel tried to respond, but the words still wouldn’t come, especially not when Dean had just insulted him. He was clearly trying to get a reaction from the angel.

‘No, you know what, Castiel? You’re going to give them back. You’re going to put them back in my head and then you’re going to kiss my ass.’

‘Dean, please-‘ All he wanted was some time, for the hunter to alleviate some of the pressure so he could think straight and talk about this rationally, as a couple, as a unit. That’s what they were meant to be. Dean was clearly on another page entirely.

‘GIVE ME MY FUCKING MEMORIES BACK!’

Castiel’s head snapped up, scared of the tone of Dean’s voice. He saw Sam hurrying the girls out of the room from the other entrance, and wondered if Sam was just as worried about Dean’s temper.

He knew the whole thing was over. There was nothing left to do except give Dean exactly what he wanted. He stepped closer, lifting his hand up slowly to touch the hunter’s temple. Dean reacted faster than Castiel could have predicted, back-handing Castiel’s arm away with a loud smacking sound.

‘Don’t fucking touch me!’

‘It’s the only way I can lift the block, Dean.’

He felt helpless at that moment, but from the tic on Dean’s cheek, he assumed he was allowed to at least touch Dean’s face in order to reinstate the memories of their first few days together. He wanted to look into Dean’s eyes, press one last kiss against his lips, but he was afraid of what the hunter would do. After all, he did have an angel blade, and he wouldn’t hesitate to use it.

‘Close your eyes.’ Castiel said softly. Dean narrowed his eyes, but didn’t close them, Castiel focused on his nose rather than looking into his eyes. It was too hard to deal with that level of hatred from Dean.

‘Like hell I will.’

Castiel tried to ignore the contempt and focus on just giving Dean his memories back in the most painless way possible.

‘I don’t want you overwhelmed.’

Dean paused for a moment before he spoke again.

‘No funny shit.’

Castiel sighed, knowing that _funny shit_ now included any and all contact between them other than his fingers on the hunter’s temples. If he could just have one more kiss … but it wasn’t going to happen.

‘I understand, Dean. But please close your eyes.’

‘Sam? If he tries anything …’

Dean turned to look for where Sam had been standing, and he gave an agitated sigh when he realised that they were alone. Yet he still closed his eyes, trusting Castiel. Maybe there was a glimmer of hope for their relationship too? Maybe Dean would cling on to their happy memories and understand why Castiel held back on them as well as the less wonderful moments. He lifted the blocks, hoping Dean would stumble into him slightly, just so they could have some real contact. He was flooded with all of the images he had blocked, feeling ashamed when he caught glimpses of Dean’s conversations with Sam, or Dean’s perspective of some of their more intimate moments. Castiel had seen himself in a mirror before, but he’d never looked quite the way he did in Dean’s memories. Were they tinted by his emotions in some way? Castiel wanted to ask so many questions about the whole phenomenon, but he was aware enough that this wasn’t the time to do so.

He stepped back, letting go of Dean’s face reluctantly. Dean kept his eyes closed, and pursed his lips as he dwelled on what he’d seen. Castiel wanted him to leave them alone, to thank him for just giving them back, to agree to start again, as unlikely as that would be. And if not, he wanted Dean to take his time, remembering every touch, every kiss, every whisper in the dark; to remember that they had something worth fighting for.

‘Did you see everything?’ Dean broke the silence eventually, sounding calmer. Castiel felt the hope flare up, the pathetic wish for Dean to focus only on the good between them. He just had to be extremely honest, about everything, and then Dean would understand, and stop being so angry. Then they could rebuild.

‘I could see all the images, yes, but I couldn’t hear your thoughts about anything.’

‘And you put back every memory? Every single one?’ Dean persisted.

‘Yes. Our first date was at the paintball. I only erased about a week.’

‘Good to know.’ His tone was sour. That wasn’t what Castiel was expecting, though he knew it would be like Dean to be sarcastic when he was upset, as a way of masking his emotions. The angel could hear the hurt underneath the bravado, and he knew there was only one way to try and make it right.

‘Dean, I’m sor-‘

‘Don’t you dare,’ Dean interrupted, finally opening his eyes again. ‘Don’t you fucking dare say you’re sorry. You did it on purpose, Cas. I can’t even … I’m going for a drive. Alone. Don’t follow me. If I find out you’ve been in the back, invisible, watching me the whole time …’

Castiel felt defeated. Dean wasn’t meant to hate him still. He didn’t think he had the strength to move, let alone follow his lover when he’d expressed the need for space. But he could give Dean space, couldn’t he? And when he returned later, he’d be calmer and they could talk things out. They had to talk things out.

‘I won’t.’

‘You’d better actually mean it this time.’ Dean walked towards the exit that Sam had ushered the girls through, turning back at the doorway to glare at Castiel with a loathing the angel had never seen before. ‘If it wasn’t obvious, Castiel, we’re done.’

With that, he walked out, slamming Becky’s front door moments later. Castiel was rooted to the floor, unable to move, or take in what Dean had just said. They were done? Finished? That was it?

It had to be hot air, Dean just needed to cool off on his drive. Then he would come back and tell Castiel that of course he would try to listen, their relationship was everything to him and life wouldn’t be right unless they were together. In the mean time, he had to wait it out, away from Sam, Charlie and Becky and their opinions about what had just happened.

He dragged himself to their room and sat on the bed, cuddling the pillow that still smelled faintly of Dean. His chest hurt as he replayed their conversation, and he realised how badly he’d handled it. He wanted a do over, a way of explaining it all properly to Dean, so that he wouldn’t break up with him and tear him apart. He didn’t have that option any more, and he hadn’t felt good the last few times he’d removed Dean’s memories either.

Was Dean thinking about him? Not about his mistakes, but of him, of them, how they were together? Was he reliving their first tenuous kisses, or the way he sucked on Castiel’s thumb in the cafe? The night that Castiel was too scared of the notion of sex, so Dean traced his hands over his head, his face, his body. The night Castiel tried to pull away, and Dean surprised him with a candlelit dinner. There were so many good moments between them, Dean wouldn’t just turn his back on it all, would he?

The door creaked open, and Becky stuck her head around the door.

‘Hey, you wanna talk?’ She asked quietly. Castiel shrugged, and nodded at the same time. She stepped into the room, snapping on the light - Castiel hadn’t even noticed the lack of light - and shut the door softly behind her, before she padded across the room and jumped onto the bed, crossing her legs underneath her. ‘I’m sorry that he got mad at you.’

‘It’s not your fault, Becky.’ Castiel rolled his head back against the headboard, feeling tears prickling his eyes and a lump in his throat. ‘It’s my fault.’

‘It was just an expression Cas. But don’t beat yourself up. Love makes us all do crazy things.’

‘That’s what I said to Charlie.’

‘And it was a good point. If it helps, when I saw you together, I got so jealous. I mean, you have something with Dean that most people would kill for. This is just a fight, right?’

‘I don’t think so. He said we’re done.’

‘I heard. I’m sorry Castiel. Maybe he’ll calm down and take that back?’

‘I’m hoping.’

‘Me too.’ Becky’s shoulders sagged. ‘Do you mind me being here, Castiel?’

‘Of course not. It’s your house.’

‘Right. Well, you can stay, you know that, right? Even if Dean comes back and he’s still mad, and he’s an unreasonable jerk, it’s my house and I want you to stay.’

‘Dean would just leave. And probably take Sam with him.’

Becky pulled her hair to one side and began playing with it, no longer looking at Castiel.

‘Well, if that happens then it happens. If Sam and I are meant to be, we’ll last through Dean’s moods too.’

‘Thank you, Becky.’

Becky stood up from the bed, and approached Castiel, reaching down and kissing his forehead gently.

‘I’ll leave you alone now, but come find me if you need anything, okay?’

Castiel nodded, and watched as she slipped out the door, listening for her soft footfalls and her whispered conversation with Sam. But he’d barely heard more than Becky recounting their conversation before he felt the strong pull that could only come from some Heavenly presence. He was being summoned, and he had no choice but to obey, to zap out of Becky’s house and towards the command.

He arrived in a stark white room, surrounded by a mass of other angels. Some he recognised, some he didn’t. They all stood in a circle, around the edges of the room, all except for two angels. Vibeke, and other woman, who sported a brown bun and a grey pant suit.

‘Hello Castiel,’ she began immediately. ‘I’m Naomi, Vibeke’s superior. I’ve been informed of your recent activities. Is there anything you would like to contribute before we decide on your punishment?’

Castiel didn’t feel overwhelmed by Naomi getting straight to business. He didn’t even feel anger over Vibeke’s actions. It wasn’t a surprise either, that she would run to her supervisor. But Castiel didn’t have any room for emotion, not with the ache of losing Dean consuming him.

‘Just that I’m already being punished. Please bear that in mind.’

Naomi cocked her head slightly.

‘How are you being punished, Castiel?’

‘Dean Winchester no longer wants anything to do with me. I don’t think you could invent any kind of torture that equals losing him. But go ahead and try, it’s a distraction, at least.’

Naomi looked at her hands for a moment, and then back at Castiel.

‘The problem isn’t your relationship with a human, Castiel-‘

‘We’re to take no humans for our own!’ Vibeke hissed. Naomi barely moved her head in acknowledgement.

‘Father said not to take any wives, he didn’t want procreation. But given Castiel’s preference for a male vessel, and that Dean is male, we can waive that issue. They won’t reproduce.’ She spoke over her shoulder, her eyes on Castiel. ‘However, Castiel, you have deceived him, and lied to us. Your punishment will fit your lies, not your choice of partner.’

Castiel didn’t care either way. Dean had removed himself from the equation, however much Castiel wanted to believe it was, as Becky said, just a fight.

‘You’re to lose your grace, and live as a human.’ Naomi decided. ‘That will be your punishment for acting so selfishly and thoughtlessly. But we’re not completely cruel, Castiel. You have one month in which to try to win Dean back over. One month. And when that month is over, if Dean is still resistant, we will obliterate you.’

Castiel couldn’t even see the option of death as a punishment. It was being offered as a way out, a chance to be freed from this pain, which would only get worse the longer he was without Dean.

‘I accept.’ Castiel nodded. Naomi smirked.

‘You don’t have a choice, Castiel. However, now that you are to be human, you are freed from any obligation to Vibeke.’

With that, Castiel found himself hurtling through time, and space, and essence, Vibeke’s scream of indignation following him as he fell to earth, fully human. He expected to liquidate on impact, but the ground received him as a firm bed would have, and he bounced slightly before coming to a stop. He looked around at the darkened street he’d landed in, the pavement lit by a sickly orange light, the houses appearing as silhouettes against a sky almost as dark. The only thing that Castiel could tell from his landing site was that he was nowhere near Becky’s house. He had no idea where he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be typos, sorry!
> 
> Again, I'd recommend reading the partner story to this, from Dean's perspective, because for the next few chapters they're apart and there's different things happening for both of them.
> 
> And thanks so much for reading! More when I can! x


	15. Chapter 15

Castiel picked himself off the ground after a he spent a few minutes readjusting to his surroundings. He stumbled around, feeling sore from his crash landing, hoping to find somewhere warm and soft to rest for a while.

Being human was disorienting. His stomach hurt in a way he wasn’t used to. His arms ached, and there was something wrong with his right knee. His head felt strange also, almost fuzzy. It made his eyelids want to close. He forced himself to carry on, hopping slightly to compensate for the pain in his knee, and looked for something that would satisfy his needs.

He became aware of a lump in his pocket after half a block. He reached in, and found a folded leather wallet, not unlike Dean’s own one. He stood under a street lamp to flick through it. There was a few bills nestled into the pocket, and a couple of cards stashed into the slots. He withdrew one, and held it up to the light. Jimmy Novak’s credit card. Could he use it to get a hotel room? Why hadn’t he noticed it before?

He slid the card back in, and nestled the wallet back in his pocket, searching his pockets again, hoping that he would find the cellphone that Sam had given him once. He knew it was best not to call Dean, though that was all he wanted. He flicked through his meagre contacts. Sam, Dean, Bobby - he hadn’t removed the contact despite Bobby’s death - and Meg. He wasn’t calling Meg, not when she had complicated everything. Maybe he could call Sam, but he knew how the conversation would go. Sam would stick up for Dean, he would take his brother’s side, and it wouldn’t matter what Castiel had to say, a Winchester’s priority was his brother.

He turned the phone off, sliding it into his pocket containing his wallet, and pushing forward, fighting his heavy eyelids and a knee that was almost stinging in pain. And there, finally, was the lurid pink-and-yellow glow of a motel. Castiel staggered as quickly as he could inside, leaning up against the counter.

‘Room for one, please.’ He gasped. The man behind the counter barely looked up from his handheld computer game.

‘Forty-nine, ninety-five. Pay up front.’

‘I have a card?’ Castiel said it so tentatively he couldn’t help phrasing it as a question. The guy took one hand off the console and held it out for Castiel’s - Jimmy’s - card, his other hand still managing the controls. Castiel pulled the card out and laid it flat on his palm, watching as he ran it through a machine and handed it back, slightly to the left of Castiel.

‘All done.’

‘Thank you. Um, you couldn’t tell me where I am, could you?’

The guy finally looked up.

‘You’re kidding, right?’

‘No. I had a fight with my boyfriend and ended up here. I just didn’t see where here is.’

The guy had blanched at the word “boyfriend”.

‘You’re in Georgetown, Texas. Do yourself a favour, dude, and keep the boyfriend thing on the down-low.’

Castiel wasn’t sure what this man was trying to communicate, except that it was something to do with having a boyfriend.

‘Oh … okay. Thank you.’ Castiel nodded, as the guy threw a key his way.

‘Room one-ten. Do me a favour, keep your boyfriend out.’

‘I don’t think he is my boyfriend anymore,’ Castiel admitted. The guy rolled his eyes, and Castiel took that as his dismissal. He walked with the key to the door marked one-hundred-and-ten, and entered.

It was decorated in a similar fashion to the rooms that Dean and Sam rented, though there was only one bed and no partition wall that he’d been used to. There was a small en-suite bathroom, which was a relief. But all Castiel cared about at that moment was crawling into the bed. He stripped off until he was completely naked, and climbed into what he supposed was his side of the bed. At least, it was the side he always ended up laying on while Dean slept, because Dean had preferred the other side. He curled up under the covers, trying to picture Dean there, to pretend there was still his warm body underneath, instead of the cool sheets. Sleep washed over him before he could truly picture Dean there, or feel regret that he wasn’t.

*

When Castiel woke up, the sun had already risen, and it took him several minutes to adjust to the notion that he’d been asleep for most of the night. And then the memories of the day before came back to him, and he groaned as he buried his face into the pillow. But the memories seemed different to the day before, as though Castiel’s optimism about their relationship ever being repaired were fading with his new reality.

Because the reality was that there had been problems. Problems like Vibeke and Meg, making things more difficult by constantly talking about their opinions on the relationship. Problems like Dean refused to say he loved Castiel.

Or the way everything had to be physical with Dean. Yes, Castiel had enjoyed the sex - although now he was human, there was a strange ache in his backside - but sometimes he would have preferred to just cuddle and talk. Maybe that was where things had gone wrong, he didn’t assert what he wanted enough. He was so glad to get the chance to be with Dean that he just went along with whatever made the hunter happy. He wasn’t blaming Dean for this, he knew it was his own fault, but that was how it was. The relationship was all about what Dean wanted.

If he had the chance right then to talk to Dean, he would apologise, over and over. He would explain about why he started wiping Dean’s memories, and what made him stop, and Dean might yell, but they’d get to a good place eventually, wouldn’t they?

He forced himself out of bed and into the tiny bathroom, where he realised he had to work out how to use a toilet. He knew he needed it, his lower abdomen was hurting and his penis was tingling, and he knew that if he could just work it out he’d be relieved of the strange tension. His body reacted before he had fully understood the mechanics of it all, and he found himself grabbing the appendage as it spurted, trying to get the stream into the pan. He was not enjoying all the aspects of being human.

He climbed in the shower as soon as he finished, turning the water on and waiting under the tepid stream for it to warm up. After a few minutes he realised that tepid was the best he was going to get, and tried to wash himself down as best as he could with the supplied shower gel and shampoo. It wasn’t the same as sharing a shower with Dean, where he could caress every beloved inch of the hunter. Instead it was hurried and practical, not erotic in any way.

He walked back into the dingy main room, drying himself off with the towels provided, before putting his clothes back on. He was slow, and his fingers fumbled frequently, unused to performing such tasks as pulling a zipper closed and slotting buttons into button holes. He missed his powers if only for the moment he could imagine his clothes on him, fresh and clean, and there they were. But if the choice was getting his powers back, or getting Dean back … there was no contest.

*

Castiel was surprised at how easy it had been to check out of the motel. The guy from the night before had been replaced by a woman who was overly happy, and she had waved Castiel off after he handed over his room key, as though there were nothing more to it. But there was so much more to it. How was Castiel going to get back to Becky’s house, to talk to Dean? He could barely remember where her house was, he’d merely tuned himself in to Dean. And now he had no idea how to do that, or how to travel there, even if he knew where there was. He felt … small. Too small for his vessel, and overwhelmed by the sheer capacity of the United States, let alone the world, let alone the size of the planes of Heaven. Was this what it was like to be human?

He wandered out of the motel, putting his hands in the pockets of his trench coat as he walked down the road, still puzzling over how to get to Dean. He had to win the hunter back over in person, he at least knew that much. It wasn’t going to be easy, but he supposed that being human rarely was. And maybe the fact that Castiel was now human would work in his favour. It might mean that Dean could trust him, and then they could hammer out the problems in their relationship and get everything back on track. Castiel could almost picture it happening. He just needed to get over the biggest hurdle, which was finding Dean in the first place.

He saw a building in the distance that made his heart leap into his throat. It had a sign on the front saying ‘bus station’ - he knew he could take a bus to the nearest town to Becky’s house, and then it would just be a matter of walking up to her front door and begging Dean for a second chance, but this time on a more even footing. He practically ran inside, and pulled to a stop in front of a giant map of the States. Now all he had to do was locate where he was, and where he needed to be. Maybe this human thing wasn’t so difficult, after all?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long to update, and that it's so short. I've had so much on, and this fic takes me a while! Appreciate all the views and comments though, thank you guys so much!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware some of this chapter may offend those who are fairly devout. I don't mean anything by the character, except that I wanted the juxtaposition with Castiel's current situation and someone who is devout. Please know that I'm not laughing at anyone, I'm trying to view the situation through Castiel's eyes.

Castiel did not understand the bus system. Once he and the clerk had worked out where he was headed, she cheerfully informed him that the last bus due there had gone ten minutes before, and the next one wasn’t due for two more days. He had spent the two days in the station, eating food from the tiny kiosk and playing with small children.

Castiel loved small children. They were pure, and innocent, and were honest in the way they saw life. He often wished he were more like human children than anything else, though whenever Dean called him a child it felt hurtful.

He’d endured the apprehensive looks from their parents, the ones that seemed to question Castiel’s motivations, but it soon faded when they realised he was providing them with a few minutes peace. After all, he was staying right in front of them, not touching the children. They played a lot of fun games, like I-spy and lego and loom bands. But they all got on their buses before his were due.

He slept too, curled up on a few hard metal seats when his vessel showed signs of exhaustion. When he’d gone to use the restroom, a kind elderly lady had provided him with some soap. They had also sat together for a few hours, and Castiel had briefly explained about the situation with Dean, before listening to her talking about her grandchildren, who she was on the way to see.

She too had left before his bus was even ready, but Castiel hadn’t minded. The wait had been full of new friends and adjusting to being human. It was spending time on the bus that worried him.

He had sat alone for an hour or so, listening to the chatter of the humans at the front of the bus, and realising he couldn’t make out anything that they were saying. All his angelic powers were gone. Did Sam or Dean know that? Did they care any more? What if they realised they needed him on a case and then he couldn’t do anything because he didn’t know and they died?

‘Hey, is anyone sitting here?’ A young girl asked. Castiel looked up, and saw a girl who must have only been eighteen smiling down at him. She was very prim and proper, nothing like the girls that Castiel had met so far.

‘No.’

‘Do you mind if I take it?’

Castiel wanted to ask where she’d be taking it to, but his usual curiosity wasn’t as piqued.

‘That’s fine.’

She sat down beside him, arranging her skirt around her and balancing her purse on her knee.

‘I’m Savannah by the way.’

‘Castiel.’

‘That’s a strange name. And you don’t seem like the usual type to use the bus.’ She smiled at him.

‘The usual type?’

‘I mean, I don’t either, but there’s a look that people get. Almost defeated, you know? But you look very hopeful.’

Castiel had been feeling hopeful. After all, he was on his way back to Becky’s house, and from there he’d find his way back to Dean, and then he’d explain and he’d ask Dean to please give him another chance. And Dean would, wouldn’t he? Dean would forgive him, like he always does, and he’d reconsider … right?

‘I do feel hopeful,’ he admitted. ‘What about you? You don’t appear to be defeated.’

She raised a hand to her mouth to giggle.

‘I guess not, but appearances can be deceptive. After all, I’m on a _bus_.’

‘I guess for me, it’s the destination that counts.’

She cocked her head as she gave this some thought.

‘That’s a good way of looking at it. So what’s at your destination?’

‘A very important person. To me, anyway. What about you?’

‘My mom. She had to move away for a treatment she couldn’t get anywhere else. Money’s suddenly tight, so I have to get the bus. But I know that God is watching over us, making sure my momma gets better, and that I’ll get to her safely.’

Castiel paused for a moment.

‘I don’t think God is doing that.’

‘Of course he is, silly! God watches over us all and protects us, makes sure we come to no harm. You just have to pray to him, and he’ll see you right.’

‘I haven’t heard from God in years,’ Castiel argued back. ‘It’s the angels that listen to prayers, if you pray to the right one.’

Savannah seemed agitated now.

‘I don’t know what kind of satanic-worshipping heathen you are, but I know God loves me and he protects me, and the Lord Jesus does too.’

Castiel looked away from the girl. She wasn’t going to believe that he was a former angel, and that God had been missing for years. He expected them to stop talking, to fall into an awkward silence, but Savannah obviously had other ideas.

‘Look, God is watching over you as well, I’m sure he is. Maybe you’re just not listening?’

Castiel sighed, and nodded along with her.

‘So this important person, why don’t you tell me about them?’

Castiel smiled, thinking of Dean.

‘His name is Dean, and he’s taught me everything. He’s the best person I know, my best friend. We had a fight a few days ago, I’m trying to find him again to apologise, to try and work things out. We have to work things out.’

‘What did you fight about?’

Castiel sighed again. It sounded so horrible out loud, what he did, the way he acted. He did it all with the best of intentions, but that didn’t seem to have any effect.

‘It’s complicated.’

‘I can handle complicated.’

‘Well, we agreed to try dating, and we set some terms for our dates, but then the reality of our situation made things complicated. Dean got upset and we fought, and I think he broke up with me. But I can’t give up on us, I need to make things right with him. I love him.’

Castiel looked at Savannah earnestly, who gave a weak smile in return.

‘I could help you right now,’ she promised.

‘You could? You know Dean?’

‘No,’ she shook her head. ‘But I know how to make things right. Give me your hands.’

Castiel obliged, noting how small and delicate her hands were, how smooth the skin was. It was nothing like holding Dean’s hands.

‘Okay, Castiel, we’re going to pray. We’re going to pray to Jesus, and he’s going to help, okay?’

Castiel didn’t see what Jesus was going to do. He spent most of his time in Heaven reliving all his angel-provided miracles. But this girl seemed well-meaning, so Castiel nodded, allowing her to continue.

‘Okay. Close your eyes. We’re going to pray out the gay, okay?’

Castiel nodded again, not understanding what she meant by _pray out the gay_.

‘Dear Lord Baby Jesus, please hear our prayer and find a way of healing Castiel. Find some way of guiding him back onto the righteous path that you set out for us. Find some way of taking Dean out of his system and washing his soul cle-‘

Castiel snatched his hands back.

‘Honey, I didn’t finish the prayer.’

‘I want Dean in my system. And I don’t have a soul.’

Savannah’s face crumpled.

‘Of course you do, Castiel. And Dean is a temptation down a bad road, you shouldn’t want him in your system. He’s going to drag you into hellfire.’

Castiel didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at that. That was how they had first met, when Castiel cradled Dean’s soul and carried him out of the pit, back into his newly formed body. He had saved Dean from that fate. How could their relationship be so wrong? Was this way Dean had been so reticent in displaying affection for him in public, to avoid attitudes like Savannah’s? He’d been protecting Castiel, and the now-former-angel had let him down.

‘I think you should find another seat.’ He told her, and turned to face out of the window, using his body language to make it clear he had nothing further to say.  
‘Castiel, I’m trying to save you-‘

‘I can’t be saved. You have no idea.’ He felt an odd sensation behind his eyes, and a deep ache in his chest. She didn’t understand, she couldn’t possibly conceive the truth. There was only one person who could save him now, and that person was Dean. He leaned his head against the window, and felt the tears as they began to roll down his cheeks.

‘Tell me, and I can make it better. Does Dean hurt you?’

Castiel ignored her. He should never have opened up to this girl. Yes she was well-meaning, but there was something rotten at her core, if she couldn’t see why he was so upset by her words. If he still had his grace, he would have been able to recognise that about her straight away. If Dean was here, he would have realised straight away what Savannah was about, he would have steered Castiel away from her. The former angel had never felt as vulnerable as he did right then.

Savannah didn’t seem to realise what his tears were about, however, and she clasped her hands around his.

‘Honey, you don’t have to be his victim anymore. Trust me.’

Castiel couldn’t tell her she was wrong, he was crying too hard, curling up into himself. All she was doing was reminding him of how wonderful Dean was, of how much he owed the hunter.

‘It’s okay Castiel, you cry him out of your system, and it’ll all get better.’ She started smoothing his hair back from his face, and he batted her hand away.

‘Just leave me alone. I am not Dean’s victim, okay? I miss him. I am crying because I miss him. I am going to get him back.’

‘You’ll risk your position in paradise to commit sin with another man?’

Castiel looked at her with a fierce expression in his eyes.

‘I already did. And he’s worth it. Now leave me alone.’

She tutted, and stood up, placing a small card on his lap and shuffling further down the bus, where he heard her loudly explaining to her new neighbour that he was choosing a life of sin over salvation. He threw the card onto the floor, and wiped the tears from his eyes, focusing on the changing landscape for when they would reach Becky’s house.

*

Castiel had been alive for millennia. He had stood and watched humankind through all it’s evolution until it resulted in the most perfect man to ever walk the earth. He had been stationary, waiting for a command that felt as though it would never come.

And yet, the idea of waiting through the duration of the bus journey was abhorrent. He had around three-and-a-half weeks left in which to find Dean and win him back, every moment was precious. Spending seven hours in the same chair on a musty bus with broken air conditioning and the incessant chatter of Savannah who seemed intent on vilifying him to everyone was not ideal, especially when it seemed that a lot of the other passengers agreed with her. The fact that Castiel was in love with Dean wasn’t something to be celebrated, it made him dirty somehow, contaminated. The notion that he wasn’t willing to _pray out the gay_ made him evil in their eyes. He was surprised he wasn’t kicked off the bus, made to walk the rest of the route.

But somehow he made it through the ride, and climbed off the bus, feeling dirty and sweaty. If Becky let him back in the house, he was going to have a long shower first thing. He could remember the last time he was in her shower, washing Dean’s body, watching his face contort like he was going to cry. He’d never found out why, he hadn’t wanted to ruin their connection by probing into Dean’s emotions and being shut out. But he would cling to the good memories, of Dean’s trust and their intimacy, and ignore the questions he could never get the answers to.

He walked from the bus station after getting directions to Becky’s house, feeling a little better. He was almost there, almost back with Becky, and Charlie, and Sam. And then it was a short step to Dean, and then he had three entire weeks to try and convince Dean to go back to him. As soon as he reached her street, he broke into a run, as though it would speed up time to race towards his lover.

The lights were off in Becky’s house, but that wasn’t a big deal. Maybe she had gone to bed early, maybe they were watching TV in the darkness. Castiel didn’t hesitate as he pounded up the walk to her door and rang the doorbell, leaning against the frame and panting heavily. He wasn’t used to the effects of exertion. Being human was a lot more complicated than he gave credit for, than he remembered it being. He finally regulated his breathing, and noticed that the door hadn’t opened. He knocked again.

‘If you’re looking for the Winchesters, they’re long gone.’ An all too familiar voice cut through the silence behind him. He turned, glaring, and found Meg leaning on a nearby street lamp. She smirked. ‘Hello, Castiel. Been waiting for you.’


	17. Chapter 17

‘I have nothing to say to you, Meg,’ Castiel told her, and tried to knock on Becky’s door once more.

‘I told you, Cas, they’re not there. They took those two humans and are probably in a motel somewhere, pretending the stains on the walls aren’t blood. But we still need to talk.’

‘And I told you, I have nothing to say to you,’ Castiel barked back, now trying to plan how to get to the Winchesters. Would they have returned to the bunker?

‘Then why are you still here Cas? Kind of looks like you want to hear what I have to say.’

Castiel looked slowly at her. And she smirked back at him.

‘You can’t just disappear, can you? What happened? I mean, I was surprised you didn’t go with them, and now you can’t just zap out?’

‘I don’t think we should discuss this in the middle of a populated street,’ Castiel said curtly. Meg opened her mouth to give a short, humourless chuckle.

‘You know, I have a car. I know roughly where the Winchesters camp out, since they go off the map at the same point all the time. I could get you there, help you out.’

‘What’s in it for you?’

‘If we’re in a car together, you’re going to have to listen to whatever I have to say. It’s win-win.’

Castiel knew that there would be some kind of trick, but what option did he have? He was aware of the days ticking away, every single one of them driving him further and further from Dean. Three-and-a-half weeks were much shorter than four, despite only a few days passing. He needed time to convince Dean when he finally saw the hunter again, he knew Dean wasn’t going to just roll over and agree to be with him again. It was going to take work, and energy, and most importantly, time.

‘Fine, but I’m watching you.’

‘I love when you get all domineering.’ Meg grinned, and led him down the street, and around the corner. She headed for a brand new, bright yellow Lamborghini, climbing into the driver’s seat without another word. Castiel slipped into the passenger side apprehensively. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be in a confined space with Meg, especially when she made comments that reminded him so much of Dean. Dean had been so accepting of the idea of Castiel being in charge of their love life, so trusting when Castiel had taken control.

‘Is this your car?’ Castiel asked as she revved the engine and slammed it into drive.

‘It is now.’

‘You’re stealing it?’

‘Hello, demon,’ Meg shook her head. ‘So why aren’t you with loverboy?’

‘We had an argument.’

Meg laughed to herself.

‘Well, well, well, who would have seen Dean Winchester losing his temper?’

‘It’s not funny, Meg.’

‘It kind of is. So why aren’t you zapping out?’

Castiel looked at his hands. He wasn’t sure he could trust Meg. He still wasn’t happy with her, first for the debacle with the carnival, second for helping Vibeke, and lastly because she found it so funny that Dean would be so upset with him. But what option did he have right now?

‘I’m not an angel anymore. Completely human. The other angels stripped me of my powers for resetting Dean’s memory, then left me somewhere in Texas. I need to get back to him.’

Meg sighed, steering lazily as she swept along through the gathering night.

‘What if he doesn’t want you there?’

‘Then I’ll deal with it.’

‘You know, if Winchester doesn’t want you, I’m still here.’

It took Castiel a moment to realise just what Meg was offering.

‘No thank you, Meg. Besides, it’s Dean or nothing.’

‘Way to kick a girl when she’s down, Castiel.’ Meg revved the engine again, and they sank into a silence. Between the quiet, and the low hum of the powerful engine, and the darkness outside, Castiel found his eyes closing, and sleep washing over him.

*

_Castiel’s vision was strange. It was slightly hazy, and almost black-and-white. All he could see was the past few weeks with Dean, with them sitting together in the various motel rooms, talking quietly, heads bent together as they discussed what they could do as they dated. Castiel knew that was what was happening, but it didn’t flow as well as it did in his memories. And things seemed different, the pacing was off, he could only remember glimpses of conversation rather than a full flow of dialogue. As he went through and watched their dates, the words changed. Castiel couldn’t understand what was going on._

_Like when Dean was laughing his way through one story, about a time when he was nineteen, and drinking in a bar with an older woman, who kept reaching out to touch his leg, his arms, to run her hands through his hair. Who would take mouthfuls of wine before kissing him, so that they were kissing around the tang of grapes. And suddenly, Dean was looking him in the eye._

_‘This is the kind of thing I want, Cas. We need to have dates like this, okay?’_

_It was only a moment, and then Dean went back to the story, but Castiel felt disjointed. At this point in their talking, Dean was still adamant for one single date. Wasn’t he? The point of the story was so Castiel could know what went on with a date, so that they could plan what to do with theirs._

_And then everything skipped forward, into their actual dates. Dean was peering through a crack in a wooden door, and Castiel was standing behind him, feeling out of sorts as Dean watched for the other men playing paintball. Dean was teasing him, just like Castiel remembered, and then the hunter was turning around, his expression serious._

_‘I like the eye-sex, Cas. Don’t stop it.’_

_And then he was turning back around, asking Castiel if he had the flag._

_There was a jump again, to the next day, when they were kissing in the Impala, touching each other, both of them shirtless, and Dean was telling him they had all the time in the world._

_‘You want a second date?’ Castiel heard himself say. Dean chuckled quietly._

_‘Don’t you get it, yet, Cas?’_

_Castiel found himself staring up into Dean’s brilliant green eyes as the hunter smiled back down at him._

_‘I never want it to end.’ He clarified, bending down to kiss Castiel once more._

_And then it was like an onslaught, the memories flickering quickly, but each one the same. An echo of the brief time they spent together, and Dean stepping out of the moment to say something he never would. Was it wishful thinking on Castiel’s part, or was this what Dean had been thinking, and never found the words to say?_

_Like arguing in the car, when Castiel tried to call it a day: ‘Cas, I said yes because I want this. Please don’t call it off now.’_

_Or when Dean was tracing his fingers across his back, he suddenly changed course, his fingers trailing down Castiel’s chest, and he was leaning closer, nuzzling his nose against Castiel’s ear: ‘I can’t remember the last time I was this happy, Cas.’_

_Kissing in the kitchen of the bunker, Dean bearing down on him with a passion that Castiel hadn’t experienced before. And then he pulled away slightly, to breathe at the ex-angel, ‘I can’t get enough of you, Cas.’_

_Laying on Dean’s bed, legs tangled together, Castiel trying to explain just how he felt and what it was he wanted from Dean, knowing that he was getting it wrong somehow. He had just said about how he wanted to show Dean everything he loved, when the hunter looked up at him seriously. ‘So we’re doing the same thing, huh? Showing each other the things we care about.’_

_Or when they’d just had sex in the bunker, and were laying together, and Dean was holding their naked bodies together, clammy and sticky yet somehow desirable, he heard the words he’d been hoping for. ‘I do love you, Cas. I wouldn’t have said yes to going out if I didn’t love you. You know I love you, right?’_

_Something in Castiel’s stomach jolted, and then Dean disappeared completely._

‘Castiel! Wake up!’ Meg’s voice pierced Castiel’s thoughts, and his eyes flickered open slowly. He’d been asleep again? Then what was with the strange memories? ‘I thought we should stop for the night. And I think I saw a cop a few streets ago, running the registration for the car, so we’re going to have to ditch it. You go check into the motel, I’ll get rid of the car.’

Castiel made himself sit up on the seat, and undo his seatbelt, before climbing slowly out of the expensive car. Meg pulled away with a tyre squeal that Dean would have been impressed with, the passenger door still flapping, and Castiel watched until she was out of sight, before walking into the motel, his head still feeling fuzzy from what had happened in his sleep. Was that a dream? Did dreams play upon real life like that?

He checked in without paying attention, and headed for the room, hoping to grab a shower. His vessel was filthy and smelly from the wait in the bus stop, and the bus journey. It was disgusting how easily humans became dirty. He had no idea what to do for his clothes, they were also smelling badly, and he’d torn the knee of his slacks when he’d crash-landed from Heaven. The knee underneath still hurt. While Meg was gone, he decided, he would wash his clothes in the bathroom too, and leave them to dry somewhere else. And she wouldn’t be allowed in until everything was dry.

It seemed easy enough to do at first, to take his clothes off and put a towel around his middle the way he’d seen Dean do. He even managed to tuck it in, feeling proud of himself for figuring it out. And getting the trench coat, the slacks, the jacket, the shirt, the tie and the underwear wet was easy. So was coating them in the shower gel provided by the motel, working up the lather and rinsing. But then they just sat there in the bathtub, wet and slippery and still marked with dirt. How did Sam and Dean handle this?

There was a loud bang on the door, and Castiel felt stressed. He hadn’t even begun to wash his clothes, or step under the shower spray himself like he wanted.

‘Just a minute!’ he called out, and made sure the bathroom door was locked. Then he took off his towel, and had his shower anyway, hoping some brainwave would give him some other way of cleaning his clothes. He missed being able to think them back to being pristine.

He didn’t enjoy the shower as he’d been hoping to, because he felt he had to rush it now, and let Meg in. He grudgingly accepted that he needed her help. He tied the towel back around himself, and crossed the room again, checking through the spy hole and inching the door open for the demon.

‘Nice chest, Castiel,’ she purred, and reached out to touch him.

‘Don’t touch me, Meg,’ he snapped, stepping away from her. ‘I rushed my shower to let you in.’

‘I’m so damn lucky,’ she smirked, and sprawled across the bed. ‘Nice double. You know, I’m getting mixed signals from you. You get us a bed to share, you walk around in an iddy-bitty towel, but then you’re standing there saying you just want Dean. What’s a girl to do?’

‘You can leave.’

Meg smiled at him, knowing it was an empty threat. He needed her help with his clothes, and he needed her to get to Dean. And she knew it.

‘I could leave, but I thought you were like a Winchester with a dumb idea? Not letting go of your Dean, isn’t that it?’

Castiel double-checked that his towel was tied on tightly, and sat by the pillows on the bed, as far away from Meg as it was possible to be in that room.

‘You said you needed to speak with me.’

‘I do. It would have been better in the car but you fell asleep on me. It’s about Vibeke.’ Castiel scowled, and Meg’s smile grew. ‘With our history Castiel, I thought I should do the right thing and tell you that, after that little scene in Sam’s girlfriend’s house, she’s out for revenge. Ran straight to Heaven to sell you out. You need to watch your back. And if you want to play her at her own game, I am more than ready for that. Bitch screwed me over.’

‘You’re too late, Meg,’ Castiel said sadly, looking down at his knees. The one that was hurting was bruised, a mess of black, purple and green blotches on his skin. He touched it experimentally, and winced in pain. ‘She got me stripped of my powers. Why else would I be in this room with you right now?’

‘So let’s play her at her own game! You know all about angels, and I can be deviant when I have to be. Let’s team up and-‘

‘No.’ Castiel said firmly. ‘Right now, what matters is that I get to Dean.’

‘Really? Castiel, I’m no idiot, I know he was waiting for us to leave to yell at you. And I can figure out that he broke up with you too. So why does it even matter? Especially when you have someone right here who would gladly be with you.’

Castiel kept his attention on his bruised knee.

‘I am not interested, Meg.’

‘You keep saying that, Castiel, but like I said, your signals can really confuse a girl-‘

’Stop talking. You already nearly ruined us once, I won’t let it happen again. As soon as I’ve had some rest, and my clothes are dry, I’m leaving for Dean.’

‘I am so sick of hearing about that pathetic human-‘

‘If I could still smite you, I would.’

There was silence in the room for a while, and then a pile of clothes appeared beside Castiel.

‘I get it, Castiel. Believe me, I do. You want to be in a stalemate? Then fine. But we both know how this will play out.’

Castiel looked at the clothes that Meg had gotten for him, and then at her. She shrugged as though she didn’t really care.

‘You know all your clothes are ruined now, right? Don’t worry, I didn’t steal them from anyone who mattered. No poor people are doing without. Just a few faceless multinational corporations who must be coming due soon on their deals with Crowley.’

‘It’s still stealing. It’s still wrong.’

‘You know, in a lot of cultures, it’s wrong to have sex with another man? Just so you have some perspective on right and wrong.’

‘God commanded-‘

‘Oh, sweetie, humans have been misinterpreting your daddy for years. Try again. You know you want the pyjama pants on, at least. And for the record, I don’t care if you did the nasty with Dean.’

Castiel shot her a venomous look, before pulling some thick cotton plaid pyjama pants from the pile and slipping them on before removing his towel. They were soft, and caressed his skin, and he was grudgingly thankful to Meg for procuring them for him. He flicked his fingers through the other clothes, which were nothing like his usual suit and far closer to the jeans, shirts, and plaid that Dean and Sam preferred.

‘So I’ll guess, if you’re human now, you’re going to want food?’ Meg sniffed, catching Castiel’s attention.

‘That would be nice.’

His stomach grumbled to punctuate that thought.

‘There’s a Chinese a half a block away. Want to order in?’

‘No, I’d like to go there myself. Get used to being a human.’

‘If you want to get used to being a human, Cas, you order in.’

‘I’ll see you soon.’

Castiel shrugged on a grey pullover, and some sneakers that sat beside the clothes, before he grabbed his wallet that he’d left with his cell phone on the side table, and headed out of the door. He realised as he made his way out of the motel complex that he hadn’t checked the direction he needed to go in. He decided to just enjoy the walk around the town, knowing that he’d find somewhere to eat soon enough. And then he’d just have to find his way back.

He hadn’t been walking for long before he stopped, blinking in surprise. Because there was Dean, in his Fed suit, looking around the area with little to no interest in the view. But Castiel couldn’t make himself care about that. All he could care about was that there were still just over three weeks to go, and Dean was right in front of him. It would be nothing at all now, to win him over, to prove that he was human and on a more even ground with the hunter. They could just concentrate on their relationship, and each other.

His feet pounded the ground, the pain in his knee practically non-existent as he removed the stupid distance between them. Dean turned to watch his progression, with hardly a flicker of emotion on his face. But it was hard to even care about that, because at least he wasn’t scowling, shouting, rejecting Castiel. It was as though he couldn’t believe that they were going to be reunited either.

Castiel threw himself at the hunter, their bodies thudding together, his arms wrapping around Dean’s waist as he breathed in heavily. Dean had a new cologne, something woody that caught Castiel’s imagination. He squeezed hard, nuzzling his face into the nook by Dean’s collarbone, revelling in the feel of his firm chest. And then Dean’s arms were around him, solid and sturdy and unwavering, and Castiel could have cried.

They said nothing, but stood there and held each other close for countless minutes. Castiel didn’t care, because surely this was a sign that the hunter wanted him back, wanted another shot at their relationship? They were beyond words at this point, but Castiel could practically feel every thought in Dean’s head just by the feel of his arms. Dean had missed him too, Dean loved him. And Castiel was falling in love all over again, but this time it felt different. The thud of his heart in his chest, the buzzing sensation that made him feel hot, the fluttering motion of his stomach, they all outweighed anything he had ever felt before. He put it down to becoming human, and sank into the feeling, knowing that there was no way he could have loved Dean this much as an angel, he didn’t have the capacity. He never wanted to be an angel again, not if it meant losing this feeling when Dean was around.

Dean leaned his head against Castiel’s, and the ex-angel closed his eyes blissfully. They would talk later, obviously, but for now, the hunter was saying everything he needed to without any words. There was something beautiful in the way they were holding each other, with no other expectations except to keep hold of each other, and not let go.


	18. Chapter 18

Castiel closed the front door softly, and stowed his briefcase under the cubic side table, where a pile of letters sat in a bowl, beside a set of keys. There was a delicious yet subtle fragrance in the air, and Castiel sniffed hopefully. He walked through the hallway, and into the light, open-plan kitchen, where Dean had his back to him, bending slightly over the streamlined stove. Castiel leaned against the pristine, marble-topped island to survey Dean’s physique as he stirred a pan, and tested a sauce from another.

‘Are you checking me out?’ Dean teased, turning to smile at Castiel, flashing bright white teeth as he did so. Castiel cast his eyes slowly down, taking in Dean’s tight green pullover, tan slacks, and designer slippers, appreciating the way that it all clung to his body, highlighting the definition of his firm muscles. Dean chuckled. ‘That wasn’t an invite, baby.’

‘You inspire me,’ Castiel’s eyes swept back up to Dean’s face. ‘What’s for dinner?’

‘Thai green curry,’ Dean turned back to the stove, and Castiel came closer, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist from behind and resting his head against his lover.

‘Mmmm, what’s the occasion?’

‘I felt like it. And I had a half-day today, so I could spend the time doing it. How was work?’

‘Oh, you know, long, tedious. But I closed that deal I’ve been working on for forever.’

‘Well then, we’re having this to celebrate. I got some of that imported beer you bought me in the fridge, and some of your wine. We’ll make a night of it.’

Castiel kissed Dean’s neck softly.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too,’ Dean promised, turning his head to grab a kiss on his lips, which Castiel was only too happy to oblige. And then Dean was turning in his arms, pressing closer, kissing him harder, his arms encircling him, and Castiel laughed into his mouth, pushing him away.

‘Stop tempting me, you’re going to burn the food, and you’ve spent so long making it.’

‘Stop tempting me, wearing that suit. You’re the entire reason I have a tie fetish.’ Dean smirked, and ran a hand over Castiel’s backside, his palm and fingers caressing the curves. Castiel made himself step back, out of reach.

‘You’re a bad influence.’

‘You love it.’

‘So do you.’ Castiel smiled, and stroked a thumb down Dean’s temple and cheek. ‘I’ll go set the table.’

‘How do you even make that sound sexy?’ Dean laughed, and turned back to the meal he was preparing as Castiel left the room, heading into the dining room. The walls were lined with shelves, which were covered in photographs of them together, and of Sam with Becky, as well as various statuettes and trinkets that Castiel had found and admired. He looked around at everything, smiling at his favourite picture of Dean and himself cuddling on a fallen tree in a park, before heading to one of the sideboards and removing everything he needed to make two place settings.

The sound of Dean singing filtered through from the kitchen, and Castiel smiled as he placed the silverware on the table, laying everything down quietly so he could listen to the words. He loved Dean’s singing voice, the way it was slightly gravelly and yet there was a softer, higher note hiding in there too. He placed a wine glass by his seat, and a fluted beer glass by Dean’s, and then went into the kitchen again, as Dean mixed one pan into another.

‘Nearly ready, baby.’ Dean scraped the last of the sauce out of the pan.

‘Okay. Where’s the wine?’

‘In the fridge, next to my beer. I told you that.’

Castiel groaned, and placed his forehead against the metal front of their refrigerator.

‘Dean, you don’t chill red. Its room temperature!’

‘It’ll still taste the same.’

Castiel shook his head against the metal.

‘You are so uncultured.’

‘That’s why I have you. Have a beer with me.’

Castiel sighed, and stepped away from the door, opening it and pulling out two bottles, before walking back to the table.

‘It’ll taste fine, Cas!’ Dean called at his retreating back. ‘And this is chicken, aren’t you meant to have white with it anyway?’

‘Don’t talk like you have any idea when you’ve ruined the Rioja!’ Castiel called back, pouring Dean’s beer into his glass and leaving the wine bottle by his place setting.   
Dean appeared with a couple of bowls, which he put on the table before walking around and sliding his arms around Castiel’s waist.

‘You’re not really mad at me, are you baby?’

Castiel looked sideways at him, accepting the kiss that Dean planted on his cheek.

‘How could I ever be mad at you?’

Dean laughed, muzzling his nose just behind Castiel’s ear.

‘Glad to hear it.’

Castiel drew back slightly, and kissed Dean gently, running a hand over his chest.

‘We should eat,’ Dean sighed, and pulled Castiel’s chair out for him, gesturing for him to sit.

‘Since when are you this romantic?’ Castiel asked as he settled himself. Dean bent down, sliding his arms around Castiel’s neck, and down underneath his shirt. Castiel shivered at the feel of Dean’s cold hands against his chest.

‘Mmmm, since I wanted to make it up to you for ruining the wine.’ He kissed the top of Castiel’s head, and reached for the bottle, opening it and pouring it into Castiel’s glass until it was near the brim.

‘Dean, you have no class. You don’t fill a wine glass to the top.’

‘You do when you’re trying to get your man drunk,’ Dean laughed, and sat at his seat, immediately reaching over and piling food on both of their plates, then tucking into his meal. Castiel played with the stem of his glass, looking at Dean as he chewed. Dean swallowed hard, and pointed to Castiel’s plate with his fork. ‘Are you going to eat, babe?’

Castiel picked up his own fork, and scooped up some rice that had been coated with the sauce. He knew Dean was eager for his approval. It was just that for some reason he felt unsettled, and he wasn’t sure how to convey that to the man sitting beside him, proud of his own cooking merits. Castiel chewed slowly before swallowing, and scooped more up, straight into his mouth. If he ate quickly enough, Dean would be satisfied that it was so good that he couldn’t possibly comment. And it was. Dean stopped watching him after a few mouthfuls, and they sank into a happy silence, the only sound was the scrape of cutlery against tableware, and the soft thunk of glass hitting table whenever one of them had a drink.

Eventually, Dean leaned back in his chair, holding his half-drunk beer, and watched as Castiel finished his meal primly, sipping from his wine glass occasionally. The wine hadn’t really suffered from its time in the refrigerator, but Castiel didn’t want to have to say that. Dean could probably tell, purely from the fact that Castiel was still drinking it.

‘Sam and Becky want to come over tomorrow. I said that was okay.’

Castiel swallowed a piece of chicken hurriedly.

‘That’s more than okay, you know that. It would be good to see Mary and Jessie again.’

He looked at Dean, who smiled back lazily, and took a large slug of beer. There was a moment of silence between them, and Castiel reached for his wine glass once more, looking around again and settling on a picture of the two of them at a carnival, fresh out of a ride. They both looked so happy, their arms tightly around each other as they grinned hard for the camera. Castiel’s face was pressed against Dean’s shoulder, and Dean’s eyes were focused on him. He found himself smiling at the picture, even as Dean’s gazed burned into him.

‘Are you done?’ Dean asked eventually. Castiel turned at looked at him, marvelling once again at the beautiful man in front of him, amazed that he belonged to anyone as physically perfect as him. He put the wine glass down, and grabbed both their plates, heading towards the kitchen sink. He started running the water and felt Dean’s bulging biceps press against his chest as Dean’s torso leaned against his back.

‘You’re quiet tonight, baby. Is everything okay?’

‘Of course,’ Castiel started washing the plates, and the pans that Dean had left to soak. ‘I guess I’m just tired from work.’

‘We’ll have an early night then,’ Dean promised, kissing the back of his neck. Castiel smiled to himself, knowing there was no way they’d actually go to sleep early. ‘Did you want to watch some TV first? Something to chill out to?’

Castiel leaned back into Dean’s firm, defined chest, accepting Dean’s gentle kisses across his cheek.

‘Sounds good.’

‘It’s not much of a celebration after all your hard work,’ Dean sounded thoughtful.

‘I don’t know, Dean. It’s an evening with you, and us talking, and good wine. I can’t think of a better way to celebrate winning the contract.’

‘I can think of a few ways to improve it,’ Dean muttered, nuzzling into the crook of Castiel’s neck.

‘I have some dishes left,’ Castiel warned, though of course he was burning to ignore the washing up in order to sink into Dean’s body. His lover didn’t complain, except to grab a dish towel and begin drying the dishes that Castiel passed him. They fell into an easy routine, and soon had everything away that Dean had used to make their meal. And then Dean was advancing on him, wrapping him in another hug, and Castiel became lost in his arms, in the press of their lips against one another’s, the slide of Dean’s tongue against his own, the tang of Dean’s beer and the smell of his cologne. _This_ was the way to celebrate advancement at work.

‘Know what I like about us?’ Dean whispered as he pressed his forehead against Castiel’s. Castiel closed his eyes and breathed in, completely surrounded by that wonderful smell that was quintessentially Dean.

‘There’s lots of things to like about us,’ Castiel pointed out.

’That’s true. But specifically, I like that we just work.’

‘And that being together never feels stale?’

Dean chuckled.

‘Yep, that too. Come on, let’s go watch something. Or put a movie on and not watch it.’

Castiel loved the playful side to Dean. He let him take his hand, and lead him back into their dining room, where they collected Castiel’s wine and wine glass, and Dean took another one for himself before they walked together into their lounge, where Dean took control of the remote controls and Castiel carefully poured some of the red wine for Dean. His lover wouldn’t particularly care if any were spilled, but Castiel liked their white furniture and expensive rug; he’d never forgive himself if he ruined them through carelessness.

They sat together on the sofa as a cooking show that Dean seemed to enjoy began, and they tangled their legs together as Castiel passed a glass along for Dean, and he responded by laying his free hand on Castiel’s thigh. Castiel reached over and began to run his fingers along Dean’s shoulders, and up into his hair.

‘Are you happy, Castiel?’ Dean asked after a few minutes.

‘Beyond happy. I’m with you. What about you, Dean, are you happy?’

Dean grinned, and sipped from his glass quickly before answering.

‘You make me very happy, Cas.’

Castiel shifted even closer to his lover, resting his head against Dean’s solid frame. Dean stroked slowly along his leg, and they fell back into that easy silence as they got involved in the show. They continued to drink their wine as they watched, and Castiel was grateful that Dean’s hand never left his leg for the entire hour the show was on, even when Castiel topped them both up.

By the end of the show, Castiel felt a pleasant buzz in his head, and a warm feeling in his chest. Everything was perfect; their relationship, their house, Dean. There was nowhere else he would have rather been than with Dean, who was turning to look at him with a dopey expression on his face. Castiel smiled back, loving that expression, the way Dean’s eyelids were half-open and his smile was faint, but so obvious to Castiel.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too, so much,’ Castiel responded. Dean’s lazy smile stretched slightly, and then he was sitting up, placing his glass gently on the glass coffee table, and leaning over Castiel.

‘Did you want to go to bed already?’

Castiel contemplated Dean’s proposition. He knew that no matter what, when they got up the stairs and into their bedroom, they would be having sex, but he found himself wanting to wait, wanting to enjoy the moment as it was with Dean.

‘No, lets watch something else,’ he decided. Dean passed him the remotes, and then lay down on the sofa, his torso bearing down on Castiel. ‘Dean, my wine!’

‘I’m being careful,’ Dean promised, slipping his arms into the gap between Castiel’s back and the arm of the sofa. Castiel’s chest felt restricted, but in a good way. There was something about Dean’s warm weight that he connected with comfort. Castiel managed to flip through the channels until he found a documentary, and Dean groaned as the announcer’s voice filtered through the room.

‘Babe, you have the worst taste in entertainment.’

‘It’s discussing the existence of angels, it’s interesting.’

‘It’ll all be those crystal-loving freaks.’

Castiel sighed, and took a huge slug of wine. Sometimes, Dean would find a documentary interesting. He liked the one set in different factories where they learned how every day objects were constructed, but as soon as Castiel picked one about aliens, or fairies, or other mythical creatures-

‘Why’s it on one of the documentary channels? They’re not even real.’

‘They’re real to some people, Dean.’

Castiel flipped through the channels again, avoiding one show he thought looked interesting on a serial killer. If Dean merely disliked his alien conspiracy shows, it was nothing on the true crime stories. He got upset whenever it was suggested that humans were capable of such violence. He would have to TiVo it, and watch when Dean wasn’t around. He stopped instead on a reality TV show, which he knew Dean would complain about but secretly love.

Dean didn’t speak throughout the show, though about halfway through, when one extremely rich woman was bad-mouthing her equally-rich friend on a piece-to-camera, Dean began kissing Castiel’s neck, rolling his body down Castiel’s, and Castiel hastily placed his wine glass on the floor before winding his arms around Dean’s neck, arching his back so Dean had better access to his neck.

‘I want you so much right now, baby,’ Dean muttered. Castiel’s eyes fluttered, and he began to grip Dean’s head, pulling him even closer.

‘I want you too Dean.’

‘Should we go up now? I really don’t care if they’re fighting or friends or who wore what trashy dress better. I just want to lose myself in you.’

Dean began to really work on Castiel’s neck, practically making out with the skin there, biting hard enough to make Castiel groan, and thrust up into Dean.

‘I didn’t disturb you though your show.’

’Trust me, you did.’ Dean sucked hard on the section of neck he was giving attention to. ‘You were there, right next to me, pretending you weren’t half as sexy as you are.’

‘It’s not as bad as you cooking with those biceps.’

Dean chuckled, which vibrated on Castiel’s neck, and went right to his groin.

‘Think we could make it upstairs?’

‘I think you’d kill me if I got anything on the sofa. Even if it’s your idea to have sex on it. Come on, you hot piece of ass.’

Dean climbed off slowly, rolling his body over Castiel as he did so, moving Castiel’s wine glass safely onto the table and taking Castiel’s hand. The darker-haired man hastily turned their television off, and allowed his lover to raise him from the seat, straight into his arms. They kissed again, more passionately this time, Castiel’s heart thumping in his chest as his breathing became laboured. He wasn’t sure he would care about the sofa, not when seeing Dean naked was imminent. He started to pull at Dean’s shirt, hoping to get it over his head, but Dean stepped back, breaking off the kiss and laughing again.

‘Babe, trust me, when the hormones wear off, you’ll freak. Remember that time we had sex on the island in the kitchen?’

Castiel didn’t respond to that, though he knew what Dean was getting at. Nothing had been placed on the faux-marble that was food related since.

’Then get the hell up into our bedroom.’

Dean smirked, and pulled Castiel along by his tie, winding their way through their house, and up the stairs. They practically fell through their bedroom door, where they immediately began kissing each other again, Dean holding Castiel’s head firmly as Castiel raked his fingers down his lover’s back. Dean groaned loudly, and Castiel felt himself stiffen. This was what he lived for, his total, undeniable connection with Dean.

Dean began tugging his own shirt off, and Castiel grabbed his wrists.

‘Don’t.’

‘Babe, I thought you wanted-‘

‘I get to do it.’ Castiel practically growled. Dean stopped moving, staring at him for a moment, before letting go of his shirt, and standing still, waiting for Castiel to begin undressing him. Castiel moved slowly, his fingers grazing over every inch of skin that he could access, watching as Dean’s eyes fluttered close for a moment as he embraced the sensation. He slowly lifted his lover’s top, fingers almost scratching the tanned torso underneath, and he stooped down to start kissing as every millimetre of skin was exposed. He finally pulled the cloth away from his lover, letting him grab his face again, both of them reattaching at the mouth almost violently.

Castiel looped his fingers through the belt loops on Dean’s pants, pulling him closer, groaning into Dean’s mouth as their penises connected through the material. He lost himself in the softness of Dean’s lips, the firmness of his body, the skill of Dean’s tongue, the taste of his mouth, the way their bodies meshed together in a way that went beyond understanding. It was as though they were one person, in that moment in time.

Dean was pushing his tongue further and further into Castiel’s mouth, holding his head in order to deepen their kiss, and he began rolling his body again, trying to dry hump Castiel where they stood. Castiel’s hands slid around to the catch on Dean’s pants, and he worked to undo them around Dean’s movements, his hands brushing against Dean as he pushed his pants down. Dean started to try to kick them off, and Castiel found himself slapping Dean’s backside. Dean kicked again, and Castiel smacked him harder.

‘No,’ he forced out around Dean’s onslaught. Dean wriggled his hips, and Castiel forced his head back, away from Dean’s hands and mouth and tongue and teeth and-

‘Babe?’

‘I said I get to do it.’

They looked into each others eyes for a moment, both of them panting heavily, and then Dean raised his hands in a defensive gesture.

‘I’m sorry, Castiel. I liked it when you struck me.’

He gave a boyish smile, and Castiel forced himself not to let his will crumble. Dean looked so good like that.

‘Keep pushing me and that’s all we’re going to end up doing.’

Dean grinned, and Castiel shook his head slightly, before bending down and easing off Dean’s pants, looking back up at Dean when he was standing just in the thong that Castiel had ordered him to wear that morning. It barely covered anything, especially as Dean was straining against the flimsy lace, and Castiel licked his lips. Dean was going to let him do exactly what he wanted, wasn’t he? He was going to make the night count.

He ran his hands up Dean’s legs, palm flat against his skin, until he reached the lace, where he looped his fingers through the material. He was still looking up, into Dean’s eyes, as he slowly began to inch the material down.

’Stay standing,’ Castiel said firmly, and Dean nodded, eyes fluttering closed as Castiel brushed back down his skin. Castiel leaned forward and began kissing along Dean’s leg, from his knee upwards, feeling his lover shaking underneath his lips. The tremors in Dean’s legs grew as Castiel worked his way upwards, and he was soon gripping on to Castiel’s head, fingers tugging painfully at his hair, his whole body leaning into him as the sensations became too much to bear. It didn’t stop Castiel from pushing on, trailing his way up Dean’s leg and finally pressing his lips against Dean’s groin. Dean moaned as Castiel took his time, kissing all the way along his length, covering every reachable millimetre of skin, and then licking his tip, feeling him thrust up into his mouth.

Castiel closed his eyes as Dean pumped into his mouth, his hands holding onto Dean’s buttocks so hard he knew there would be slight indents into the mounds of flesh. He made a mental note to look over his handiwork in the morning, before running his tongue along Dean’s shaft, hearing him whimper.

‘Fuck, Cas,’ he breathed, pulling at his hair. Castiel dug his fingers in harder, pulling Dean closer to him, feeling the head tickle the back of his throat. All he could hear was Dean’s gasping breaths, the sharp little hisses, his own staggered breathing, and the wet sound of his mouth on Dean’s skin. Everything was reduced down to the sensation of their bodies connecting, the unspoken need for each other palpable in the air. And then Dean was releasing with a yell, yanking Castiel’s hair so hard he was afraid his scalp would pull off as the warm liquid flowed down his throat. He gulped it down, and pulled off of Dean’s penis with a popping sound, looking back up at Dean.

‘You look so hot on my dick,’ Dean whispered in amongst his laboured breaths.

‘You taste good.’

‘You feel good.’

‘It never gets old.’

‘Mmmm, never.’

Castiel stood up, kissing Dean hard, feeling Dean’s hands working along his waistband, untucking his shirt …

‘Dean, what’re you doing?’

‘I’m naked, and you’re not.’ Dean barely pulled away from Castiel, their lips bumping together as he spoke. ‘Baby, I want to feel your skin on mine, want to get hot pressed against you. I want your permission to take off your clothes.’

Castiel loved the fact that Dean got so into role-playing, and scenes, and still just wanted him. He stopped kissing, or even touching Dean, and took a slow step back, making sure he had Dean’s unwavering eye contact. Their breathing slowed, and Castiel could see Dean beginning to shiver in the cool of their room.

‘Okay.’ He spoke eventually, savouring the power he had over Dean. ‘You may.’

Dean moved fast, whipping Castiel’s tie off, deftly unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off hastily, and practically ripping Castiel’s pants off, pushing Castiel onto their kingsized bed in order to work them all the way off. Castiel propped himself up by his elbows and watched as Dean came back to pull his underpants down too, the bloody-mindedness apparent on his face. He was about to pounce on his lover, but Castiel stuck a hand out, pointing across the room.

‘What are you forgetting?’

Castiel would never speak to Dean like this outside of their bedroom. Dean would never take it. And yet somehow, when it came to sex, it was how they worked best, with Castiel calling the shots. Dean hastened across the room, throwing open a drawer and pulling out condoms, lube, and a few pairs of fur-covered handcuffs.

‘Blindfold too,’ Castiel told him.

‘Come on, Cas!’

Castiel shot Dean a dirty look, but Dean stood his ground.

‘Cas, I love you, I want to see you when we’re connecting. Don’t you want that too?’

Castiel sighed, and stood up, taking the handcuffs from Dean, and nodding towards the bed.

‘Lay down, face down.’

Dean looked ready to argue back, but one warning look of Castiel’s and he swallowed it down, climbing onto their bed and spreading his arms and legs out in a starfish as he lay on his stomach. Castiel walked around the bed, securing each of Dean’s hands and feet to the bedposts. When he was satisfied, he climbed on the bed too, working his way up Dean’s body from underneath until they were laying pressed against one another, Dean’s weight and the pull of the handcuffs effectively pinning Castiel down.

‘Hey.’

‘Hi.’

They stared at each other for a moment, and then they came together simultaneously, their bodies crashing against each other as much as possible under Dean’s restraints. Castiel worked the condom onto himself, and then squirted a generous amount of lube onto his hands. He then worked it into his penis, and began touching Dean, probing his fingers in to where Dean would yield. His fingers moved expertly, having done this so many times by now, and Dean was trembling against him, moaning incoherently into his ear all too quickly.

‘Cas, Cas, please. Please.’ Dean whimpered into his ear. He removed his fingers and shifted underneath Dean, lining himself up and slowly penetrating the man he loved. Dean groaned loudly, eyes fixated on Castiel’s, and they stared at each other as they built up a rhythm, Castiel working hard to get fully into Dean, his body curving around his lover’s, and they became lost in the slap of their bodies against each other, the ache in their muscles from the activity, and the depth of each other’s eyes. Eventually, Castiel laid back, Dean’s body heavy and fulfilled on top of him as he fell out of Dean. They laid together as their breathing settled, and their bodies came down from the high.

’There wasn’t much foreplay there,’ Dean said eventually. ‘Are you okay, Cas?’

They usually lasted out much longer than that, but Castiel had been just as desperate for that as Dean had.

‘I’m fine Dean. Sorry if I disappointed you.’

‘You didn’t. Baby, I’m just concerned. Are you really tired?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay, uncuff me, and we’ll just hug, okay?’

Dean kissed him clumsily on the cheek, and Castiel wriggled his way back out from underneath Dean, undoing all the cuffs with their safety button, and climbing back onto the bed, underneath the covers. Dean rubbed his wrists and ankles where the restraints had been, and burrowed down under the blankets with him, his arms circling Castiel and pulling him close.

‘Did I do really badly?’ Castiel asked softly. Dean chuckled.

‘Of course not, babe. But you usually take your sweet time and today you didn’t. I was just worried.’

‘I’ll make it up to you,’ Castiel promised Dean chuckled softly.

‘No worries, Cas, baby. Good night.’

‘Good night.’

‘Love you.’

‘Love you more.’

‘Love you most.’

‘Love you best.’

Castiel snuggled into the crook of Dean’s neck, and Dean began fondling his hair softly, humming as Castiel drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the same story. I posted it on Fanfic.net already, and am really enjoying the guesses people are making about what's going on. So ... your thoughts?


	19. Chapter 19

Castiel woke up slowly, blinking his eyes and trying to remember the dream he’d been having. It was closer to a nightmare, he knew that much. He gazed around at the stark white room, and it took him longer than it should have to remember where he was. In his house, the one he shared with Dean. In their bed, the gargantuan king sized bed that yielded easily to the force of their love-making. Completely naked underneath the covers, except for the cool of the ring he wore on the third finger of his left hand. He looked at his hand, and the ring caught the light of the sun streaming in through their bedroom window, highlighting the inscription in the ring. He spun the ring slowly, reading the words Dean had chosen for him for his wedding band.

_Vanilla latte._

Castiel felt confused. Shouldn’t Dean have put some inscription that showed his love? And where was Dean? It had been disconcerting to wake up without Dean wrapped around him, still snuffling gently in his sleep.

And then the door was creeping open, and there was Dean, wearing only a pair of blue plaid pyjama pants and holding a tray loaded with plates and mugs. He hurried over to the bed and set the tray down, the “feet” of the tray on either side of Castiel’s torso.

‘How long’ve you been awake, baby?’ Dean bent down and kissed Castiel hello, his mouth as fresh as minty air. Castiel sighed. He loved the taste of Dean after he’d brushed his teeth.

‘Just woke up.’

‘Good. I wanted to wake up up with the food, but I guess you could smell it coming, huh?’

Dean laughed, and Castiel took a huge, appreciative sniff. There was the salty tang of bacon, and the unmistakeable smell of eggs, and something sweet. He removed the plate covers, and unveiled a plate of bacon, sausage, hash browns, toast and eggs, and another with blueberry pancakes and yet more bacon. There was also a black coffee, something white and frothy with brown dust on top, and a couple of glasses of orange juice. It all looked so delicious.

‘Dean-‘

‘We’ll be careful, we won’t spill any on the bed. I just wanted to look after my man,’ Dean blinked, his huge eyelashes fluttering, and Castiel couldn’t argue with him, or criticise him at all. Not that he even wanted to.

‘I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to say, it looks delicious. You’re eating too, right?’

Dean smiled, and reached for another kiss, before picking up a strip of bacon and crunching down on it, biting back a groan.

‘Are you trying to give me a bacon fetish?’ Castiel teased, and picked up one of the forks to pass to Dean, grabbing his own one too. He cut into the pancake with the side of his fork, and lifted it slowly to his mouth, suppressing a groan of his own.

‘Every time I make you blueberry pancakes,’ Dean shook his head. ‘I could swear you love them more than me.’

‘It’s a close call,’ Castiel said happily around his mouthful. ‘Dean, what did I put on your wedding ring again?’

Dean paused in the middle of grabbing a slice of toast.

‘You’re kidding, right? You forgot?’

‘No. Of course not,’ Castiel lied quickly. ‘I just love hearing you talk about it.’

‘Americano.’ Dean shrugged, and picked up the black coffee, taking a large gulp of the liquid. Castiel felt none the wiser, but played along.

‘And you totally are.’

Dean laughed into his mug, and lowered it slightly, nudging the frothy drink along the tray slightly.

‘So does that make you a latte?’

They put their coffee orders on their wedding rings? Now Castiel got it. He picked up the cup, not sure what to expect. But the liquid was delicious, and filled his body with a pleasant kind of warmth, and he soon found the cup was empty. Dean was chuckling quietly to himself, and reached over to wipe away the foam moustache that had appeared as Castiel drank.

‘I swear, if you could live on that stuff, he shook his head, and reached over to swipe another piece of bacon. As he did so, Castiel caught sight of the time on his watch, and grabbed his wrist quickly. ‘Hey, Cas-‘

‘I’m late for work. I’m so late for work. I’ll get fired, Dean!’

‘Would you relax? I called in sick for both of us.’

‘You called for me?’ Castiel double-checked.

‘Called as you. Your work are still so off about us. Do they still think we’re roommates? Anyway, I told them we were celebrating your deal with some sushi and you - sorry, I - must have eaten a bad spicy tuna roll. They’re not happy, but hey, you can’t help it if you’re puking everywhere, right?’

Castiel sighed. It was so Dean.

‘And the garage?’

‘They were fine with it. Said they owed me some days. They wished you a quick recovery too.’

‘Dean,’ Castiel sighed again. Dean nuzzled against his shoulder playfully.

‘Baby, we now have the entire day to ourselves. Sam and Becky will be over with the twins later, and before then we can just indulge in each other. It’s been how long?’

‘It hasn’t been that long Dean.’

‘We don’t always get the same days off, mr workaholic.’

‘Dean, my whole world is about you.’

‘Keep talking like that, and we’re going to have to leave the food.’

Castiel smirked.

‘Well, don’t get rid of the syrup.’

Dean looked at him with apprehension.

‘You’d do food play?’

‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Sticky sheets.’

‘You made them plenty sticky last night, and I didn’t complain. I like the idea of licking it off your body.’

‘Hmmmm,’ Dean chewed on his slice of toast.

‘What?’

‘I don’t know. I just don’t see it.’

‘Why does it always end up being dirty talk with you?’

‘You love the dirty talk.’ Dean grinned boyishly around his toast. Castiel shook his head, and carried on eating the blueberry pancakes, as Dean munched his way through the other plate of food. As soon as the last bite was in Castiel’s mouth, Dean whisked the tray away, and bounced back on the bed, holding in the syrup, and one of the surplus condoms from the previous night. He lay flat out against the covers beside Castiel, and held out the syrup bottle.

‘Put your money where your mouth is.’

‘My mouth is going to be on you, so if you want to feel cheap …’

‘You wish you could afford my prices. Luckily for you, you get lovers discount.’

‘That better be free,’ Castiel growled. Dean laughed again.

‘We’ll see.’

Castiel took the syrup bottle and squirted a small amount onto Dean’s chest before bending down and licking slowly, his tongue tracing the contours of Dean’s body. And then he began to suck slowly, wrapped up in Dean’s body, not paying attention when Dean gently removed the syrup bottle from his hands and pushed it out of reach. Dean began to move underneath him, that rolling motion with his body that Castiel got a thrill out of. And then he realised what was happening, and sat up, wiping the syrup residue from the edge of his mouth.

‘Dean, stop rushing it. Enjoy it.’

‘I’m not rushing anything,’ Dean leered. Castiel sat up more fully, and slid a leg over Dean, pulling himself up so that he was straddling his husband around the waist.

‘Can I not just give you unparalleled attention?’

‘You always do,’ Dean smirked.

‘I mean it Dean, I want to do something for you.’

‘Baby, you gave me head last night, and then gave me mind-blowing sex. You’re a real giver.’

Castiel kneaded the heels of his hands up Dean’s body, watching his face as it contorted with a pain that was just the right side of pleasurable. He could feel Dean standing to attention underneath him, his penis pressed against the cleft in Castiel’s backside.

‘You’re always so eager,’ Castiel mused. Dean groaned.

‘So’re you.’

Castiel trailed his fingers back along Dean’s torso, digging his fingernails in slightly, scratching along the firm muscles, watching as the skin turned white from the pressure, then red as his fingers moved on. Dean moaned, thrusting up underneath him.

‘Dean,’ Castiel warned, adding more pressure. ‘What did I say about rushing?’

‘You turn me on so much, baby.’ Dean closed his eyes, sliding his hands onto Castiel’s legs, and tracing them up until he was holding onto Castiel’s hips. Castiel watched his face closely, trying to anticipate what Dean was up to, scratching along Dean’s chest and stomach all the while. As he made his way slowly down Dean’s sides, Dean gave his loudest groan yet, and squeezed Castiel’s hips hard. And then Castiel found himself being lifted up, Dean wriggling slightly underneath him, and he knew what was coming.

‘Who said we’re switching?’ He whispered. Dean didn’t even crack an eye open.

‘Baby, I need this right now. Please? You have no idea what you’re doing to me.’

‘I know what I’m doing to you. It’s why I’m doing it.’ Castiel scratched lower than before, his hands almost touching his own body, and Dean moaned again.

‘Baby, baby, please? Take off my pants, please.’

There was something about Dean begging for him that got to Castiel. He reached back and tugged the pyjama pants away then sank onto Dean slowly, feeling fulfilled as Dean thrust up into him. They made love slowly, watching each other, each slap of skin as their bodies collided marked with a moan, a name, a grunt. And then, after what felt like hours of slow love-making, of savouring the feel of their bodies working together, Dean began to speed up. Castiel quickly matched him, practically bouncing on his lap, knowing that Dean was close to the edge, feeling that he couldn’t hold back much longer himself.

They came together, yelling in unison, and Castiel fell forward, bracing himself against the bed with his hands as he covered Dean’s body, aware that he was spurting over the pristine sheets as well. Dean continued to hold him in place, riding out his orgasm inside his husband. His grip on Castiel faltered, and Castiel pulled himself off Dean’s penis finally, sinking further down into his husband, who instantly wrapped his arms around him.

‘That was amazing,’ Castiel’s voice was barely audible. He was nuzzling into Dean’s chest again.

‘Always is,’ Dean’s voice was equally soft. ‘I thought marriage was meant to kill your sex life?’

Castiel smirked.

‘I guess it’s because I got lucky and married you.’

‘I’m the lucky one.’

Castiel ran his fingers along Dean’s smooth skin again, tracing over one pectoral, along his firm, bulging bicep, and down his forearm until he was tracing Dean’s palm, and sliding their fingers together. They both watched his progress, and Dean flexed his fingers as they wove around each other, before he began to caress Castiel’s hand too. They laid together, watching as they stroked each other’s palms and wrists and fingers and knuckles, while Dean still held Castiel close.

‘You know what, Dean? This is pretty close to perfect,’ Castiel sighed.

‘Only close to? What do I have to do to make it perfect?’

Castiel smiled to himself, snuggling closer to the man he loved.

‘Make it last.’

Dean laughed to himself, his entire body vibrating as he did, lifting Castiel with the motion.

‘Baby, I would, but Sam and Becky are over later, remember? Seeing the twins, hearing about their day in pre-school, trying to convince Sam to cut his hair.’

Castiel laughed this time. It was strange that Dean was constantly berating Sam for the length of his hair, but he would plead with Castiel to grow his out, just a little.  
They sank back into a quiet peacefulness again, still stroking each other’s hands, lacing their fingers together, with Dean occasionally reaching across to kiss Castiel softly on the forehead. They needed more “sick days” like this, where they could lay together and relish what they had. Eventually Dean sighed.

‘Baby, it’s getting late. As much as I want to do this all day, I really don’t want Sam and Becky to walk in on us. We should get ready. Make sure the girls won’t trash the house.’

Castiel closed his eyes dramatically, Dean’s words bringing to mind the moment at the last visit where Jessie, who had been running tirelessly through the house, managed to knock over a vase. A priceless Ming, tiny but rare, and Castiel had been so excited to find it in a garage sale. The owner didn’t know what they had. Sam had apologised over and over, but Mary had defended her sister by pronouncing the vase as ‘ugly, anyway.’ Castiel loved his nieces as much as Dean did, but that was hard to bear.

‘Baby, we’ll hide it all. And if not, we’ll let them at your Disney collection.’

Castiel opened his eyes and grimaced. There was nothing worse than Mary and Jessie caterwauling to the Frozen soundtrack. They were fast killing his love of all things Disney.

‘You’re really not reassuring me.’ Castiel informed his husband. Dean chuckled.

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. And then they’ll call you UncaCas and hug the life out of you and it’ll all be fine.’

Castiel had to grudgingly admit, it was a saving grace that their nieces were so good at hugs.

‘Fine, we’ll get out of bed.’ He sighed loudly, and Dean chuckled.

‘See? You’re a sucker for those girls too. I’m going to hit the shower first, okay?’

Castiel snuggled closer into Dean’s chest.

‘Or …’ he said as suggestively as he could.

‘Or?’ Dean flirted back.

‘Or we could have a bath together. With bubbles and candles and music in the background.’

‘Baby,’ Dean moaned. ‘What are you trying to do to me?’

‘That’s a yes?’

Dean let go of Castiel’s hands to rub his face.

‘Can we do that when they’ve gone? When we don’t have to rush it, when we’re exhausted from chasing Jessie everywhere and just want to chill out? And then we can take some wine in there, and totally indulge.’

Castiel groaned, but slipped off of Dean.

‘Fine. I’m going to change the sheets and do the laundry while you’re in there. Then it’s my turn.’

‘Thanks, Cas,’ Dean gave him one final kiss to the temple, before sliding his pyjama pants back up, and heading for their bathroom. Castiel rolled over to watch Dean go, appreciating the breadth of his shoulders, the way even his back seemed to be made of muscle. And when his husband was finally out of sight, and he could hear the shower running, he climbed out of bed and began to strip the sheets, which were sticky from their love making that morning, and the night before. It was the one rare time when mess didn’t bother Castiel, because it was some kind of a sign of how much they cared for one another, but he did have his limits, and wouldn’t be able to sleep on those sheets again until they’d been cleaned.

He slipped on a pair of Dean’s underpants from the floor, knowing they had probably been recently used, but trying not to care, and hauled the sheets along to the laundry room.

*

‘UncaCas, lookit!’ Mary was clasping her pudgy hands together, proffering them for Castiel, who was already wincing. He could see some kind of mush leaking out from between her fingers, and couldn’t even being to imagine what was inside her grasp. But Becky was nodding encouragingly at him, and Castiel knew he had to at least pretend, for his niece.

‘What is it?’ Castiel asked, squatting down to her level, as Jessie came in the room, dragging Dean behind her. The house fell apart when Jessie and Mary were visiting, but normally Castiel didn’t mind. Much. Mary opened her hands, and Castiel tried to work out what she was showing him. It was pink and yellow, and blobby, and just looked like mulch. He forced a smile for Mary.

‘That’s … that’s nice, sweetie.’

‘Gottit fwom John. John was nomming.’

Castiel’s smile froze, and he looked over at the little puppy that Sam and Becky had recently adopted. It sneezed, and scratched its ear, then followed Jessie as she went skipping past. And then Castiel looked to Sam, who smiled weakly back at him.

‘I have no idea what he’s chewed up either. Sorry, Cas.’ Sam knelt down in front of Mary as well. ‘Okay, sweetheart, lets go throw that in the trash.’

‘Nonono. Not twash. Barbie.’

Sam groaned.

‘Great, Jessie’s going to flip. She only just got that Barbie. Mary, come on, put it in the trash.’

‘No. No, it’s Jessie’s. Give it to Jessie. JESSIE!’

Sam and Castiel watched on in horror as Jessie returned to the room, this time riding Dean like a horse.

‘What?’

‘Jessie, it’s Barbie. John gave her kisses.’

Mary held out the chewed up head, and Jessie wrinkled her nose.

‘Not Barbie. Is yuck. UncaDee horsey. You get horsey, Mary!’

Sam scooped Mary up, and took her into the kitchen, where Becky had been hiding out, trying to get five minutes peace. As he went, Castiel could hear him telling Mary that she had to get rid of the Barbie head, but don’t worry, they’d get a new one for Jessie. As the door closed, Dean flopped onto the floor, and Castiel leaned back on the sofa, watching as Jessie bounced on his back, digging her tiny heels into his side.

‘UncaDee! UncaDee! Be horsey!’

‘Yup,’ Dean muttered, and Castiel couldn’t watch him be tormented by their niece any more. He picked her off his husband, and threw her in the air a few times, loving the way she gave a deep belly laugh as she flew through the air.

‘More, UncaCas! More!’

‘Thanks, baby,’ Dean groaned from the floor.

‘There’s always plan D.’ Castiel reminded him, as Jessie curled up close against him, finally bored of being thrown in the air.

‘Jessie?’ Becky stuck her head around the door. ‘Sweetie, come here and get your coat, we’re going now. You can walk John all by yourself if you get it on.’

Jessie perked up in Castiel’s arms, wriggling to indicate that she wanted to get down. Castiel set her down gently, and she ran over to the kitchen to get ready. Dean made himself stand up, and wound his arms around Castiel’s waist, leaning his head on Castiel’s shoulder.

‘If I ever tell you we should have kids, please just push me towards babysitting them for a few hours. I don’t know how Sam and Becky do it.’

‘You’re great with kids, Dean.’

‘So are you,’ Dean nuzzled his head into Castiel’s shoulder. ‘We should go say goodbye, then maybe have that bath? I definitely need it now. I think Jessie’s left bruises.’  
Castiel nodded, and walked with Dean into the kitchen, where both girls were in their matching red coats, their wispy brown hair spilling down the back, and John was on his leash, barking excitedly, jumping up at all of them, eager for the walk. Sam had successfully gotten rid of the Barbie head without a meltdown from either girl while Becky checked they had everything they needed. And then everyone was kissing each other goodbye, and Dean and Castiel were promising their nieces that they would see them soon. Dean went to the front door to say a final goodbye to Sam, and Castiel grabbed a bottle of wine from the refrigerator, and two glasses, before running up the stairs and preparing for the most romantic bath of Dean’s life.


	20. Chapter 20

There was something peaceful about being married to Dean. Something that Castiel found himself embracing, though he wasn’t altogether sure why he felt that compulsion. But it was something that he knew he had to keep hold of, and make precious. Maybe that was the secret to their marriage, that they didn’t take each other for granted, that they still acted as though they were in the first flushes of love.

For instance, Castiel had spent some time that morning with his head in a book, reading about a world outside of his own, fully absorbed in the flow of language and the nuance of the ideas that separated one notion from another by mere words. He loved reading. At some point - he had lost track of time - Dean approached, and began wriggling under Castiel’s arm, getting comfortable on the sofa, snuggling up to Castiel, all while Castiel tried to read a fairly exciting scene.

‘Dean, sometimes, you remind me of a cat.’

‘Nah, apparently cats lick themselves clean in front of you, then show you their butts.’

‘Hmmm, like I said. Just like a cat.’

Dean made a grab for the book.

‘Nope!’

‘Oh, come on, Cas! Pay attention to me, not that dusty old thing!’

‘Wait, was that pay attention to you, or not pay attention to you?’

It took a moment for the intended insult to sink in.

‘If I’m dusty and old, it’s because I’ve been waiting so long for your attention.’

Castiel shook his head, and made himself continue reading, as Dean began tracing a finger along his arm, and up into his hair. He read the same sentence, three times.

‘Dean.’

‘Castiel.’

‘I’m trying to read.’

‘I’m trying to be adorable.’

‘You are adorable. Now quit distracting me.’

Castiel wasn’t annoyed at all, though his tone suggested otherwise. He was hoping that Dean would become creative in trying to get his attention. He wasn’t able to follow the book’s narrative any more.

‘Read to me,’ Dean whispered, now running his hands up the back of Castiel’s shirt. ‘If you’re going to insist on reading, then read to me. Then I get to hear that sexy voice of yours and you get to read the book.’

‘It’ll be beyond you. It’s not about cars.’

‘Yeah, I won’t be listening to the words,’ Dean cuddled closer, his head in the way of the book. ‘I’ll be listening to you. And I might get it. I’m not a total motorhead.’

‘I know that. But you need to read the whole thing, otherwise it’s just weird.’

‘I can handle weird. I’m with you, remember?’

Castiel sighed, and gave up with the book completely, dropping it gently onto the coffee table, and wrapping his arms around Dean, and kissing his forehead.

‘Okay, okay, you win.’

‘No, pick the book back up! I meant it,’ Dean squirmed around, lacing their legs together, nuzzling down until his head rested just under Castiel’s chin. ‘I don’t care about the story, I just want to listen to you.’

‘I don’t need the book for that, do I?’

‘Fine. Just talk at me.’

Castiel laughed to himself, and squeezed Dean even closer, nuzzling against his hair.

‘What do you want me to talk about?’

‘Anything. The words aren’t the point.’

Castiel smiled, and then found himself making up a story, about Dean being a hero, fighting off all kinds of monsters and nightmares, how Sam was his sidekick, helping him to right the wrongs out in the world. He was just getting to the part when Dean would discover the man of his dreams when his husband made a snuffling sound. He leaned back slightly, and saw that he had fallen asleep. Castiel held him close again, and reached over for the book, finally able to concentrate on the words.  
Castiel once again lost track of time, until Dean stirred in his arms, stretching and accidentally knocking the book out of his hands. He looked around with blurred eyes.

‘Hmmm? Oh, sorry baby.’

‘It’s okay. I didn’t want to disturb you. You wanna do something?’

Dean laughed, and ran his hands slowly along Castiel’s back, until he was playing with the wasitband of his pants.

‘Is your name “something” now?’

Castiel groaned, flopping back against the sofa cushions with a hand held dramatically to his forehead.

‘I think I make progress with you, I think I’ve managed to tame you, and then you go and make jokes like that.’

‘And you let it go, because you’re like “its Dean, and I love him” and you actually think it’s a cute little quirk.’

‘God help me, I do,’ Castiel sighed. Dean laughed, and kissed his collarbone. ‘Dean, don’t you think it’s a little early?’

‘Mmmmm, no. Too early is while you’re still asleep.’

Castiel sighed, and worked to detangle himself from Dean, who started grabbing at him, tickling him, wrestling him to the ground.

‘Dean, Dean, No! No, stop it!’ He found himself yelling, as they ended up on the floor, Dean straddling him and tickling him mercilessly.

‘Like I’d just let you go.’

‘You’re being such a child!’ Castiel gasped out.

‘And you’re being an old man.’

‘Okay, Dean, stop it. Stop, stop, STOP!’

They were both panting as Dean took his hands off Castiel’s body, and held them just above his chest.

‘Okay, compromise,’ Dean suggested. ‘We go have sex.’

‘How’s that a compromise?’ Castiel raised an eyebrow.

‘Because that way, I get sex, and you get to avoid being tickled, because I’d be getting sex.’

‘Doesn’t seem like I’d win anything in this compromise.’

Dean shrugged.

‘You get to have sex with me. Everyone wins that way.’

Castiel groaned, and tried to flip Dean off of his body.

‘Like you don’t want to make love to me.’

‘I’m not going to win, am I?’ Castiel groaned. ‘Fine, I’ll just get some stuff from upstairs, okay?’

‘What’re you planning?’ Dean grinned back, his expression smug now that Castiel was conceding.

‘Apart from how to get back at you?’ Castiel smirked. ‘Sex in the yard.’

Dean turned his head to look through the window at their back yard.

‘It’s a little exposed.’

‘Good. Everyone can see that great ass of yours before I claim it. Again.’

Dean laughed, and bent down to kiss Castiel.

‘No, no, I have to get some stuff.’

‘Bet it’s cold out.’ Dean purred.

‘So?’ Castiel challenged him. ‘Are you a wuss?’

‘That’s fighting talk, Cas.’ Dean began tickling him again, and Castiel couldn’t help rolling on the floor, laughing.

‘Stop it! Dean!’ He shrieked. ‘You’re getting sex, isn’t that enough?’

Dean stopped tickling him once again, and bent over to kiss his lips.

‘Well, go get the stuff then, and I’ll get prepped in the garden.’

‘Sounds good. Are you going to let me up?’

Dean rolled his eyes, and finally climbed off Castiel’s lap, holding a hand out to help him stand up, and pulling him closer for a kiss as he did so.

‘Mmmmm, can’t get enough of that,’ Dean grinned.

‘Me either,’ Castiel admitted, as he heard their front door open and shut. ‘Did you hear that?’

‘What?’

‘The front door.’

‘It was probably nothing, baby.’

‘I’ll just check on my way to getting the lube and stuff, okay?’

He wriggled out of Dean’s grasp completely, and walked towards the foyer.

‘Don’t be too long! Things might start dropping off from frostbite if you do!’ Dean called at his retreating back. Castiel smiled fondly to himself, and pushed open the door to the foyer, and then was brought up short. Standing on the welcome mat just inside the door, looking straight at him with a serious poker face, was Dean. But not the Dean he had just left behind, preparing for sex in the yard. There was a different aura to this Dean, one that was heavier, like he had a world of guilt and tension sitting on his shoulders. His clothes were awful too, a fraying flannel shirt, a greying t-shirt, ripped jeans, and the dirtiest combat boots Castiel had ever seen.

This Dean stood silently, glowering at him, and Castiel’s brows knitted together momentarily as he tried to work out what was going on, where this Dean had come from, why there was such a strong, intense vibe around him. Castiel could feel it sinking into him as they stood, and he knew there was no way he was having sex in the garden now. The Dean opposite him looked as though he couldn’t speak, and Castiel knew he’d have to reach out first.

‘Hello, Dean.’

Dean’s eyes widened, and Castiel knew he’d inhaled quickly at that. Why was Dean over-reacting to a simple hello? Castiel watched as Dean seemed to pull himself together, then jut his chin forward and up slightly, as though he were regaining some kind of control.

‘Hi, Cas.’


	21. Chapter 21

Castiel couldn’t help but notice the tension in the atmosphere, all of it radiating from Dean, who stood awkwardly in front of him like he didn’t want to be there at all. He kept shifting his weight between his feet, and his nervous energy was leaking through to Castiel. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and not one he wanted to pursue, but Dean didn’t seem to want to calm down either. He did at least break the tension by speaking again.

‘So … nice place.’

Castiel felt confused. Why was Dean complimenting him on the house they had chosen together? Why did he sound so insincere? Castiel wasn’t used to that either.

‘Thanks. But it’s your home too, Dean.’

They continued looking at each other. Castiel felt like the space between them was a huge, insurmountable chasm at that point. He wanted to step closer, to embrace Dean, for them to communicate the best way they knew how. For Dean to stop dressing like a hobo. He wanted the Dean he’d just left in the yard back. That was confusing him so much. Wasn’t this the same Dean?

‘Oh, right. So, no bunker?’

Castiel tried to force a smile. Maybe Dean had knocked his head on one of the lawn sculptures?

‘What bunker?’

‘What bunker?!’

Dean’s reaction made Castiel jump. He seemed affronted by the very notion that Castiel would forget. Was it from one of their earlier dates?

‘The Men of Letters bunker? My legacy?’

Castiel had to bite his tongue to keep himself from telling Dean that he was the last person on earth who looked like they had a legacy at that moment. Maybe Dean was referring to the time, way back in the early days of them dating, when they had outdoor sex for the first time. It had been in a ditch, but Dean might have been role-playing back then. Maybe that was what he was doing now?

‘Sweetie, is this a joke? Or are you role playing?’

Dean’s expression went from mildly insulted to completely baffled. Had Castiel forgotten how expressive his husband’s face could be? Dean nodded to the picture beside him, one of their various honeymoon pictures that lined the walls.

‘Never mind. So … we went to Italy?’

‘Are you okay, Dean?’ Castiel dropped his voice, softening it. How had Dean forgotten their honeymoon? He must have hit his head. Castiel decided to make it easy on his husband.‘I thought you wanted to have sex, anyway. Wasn’t that what we were doing?’

Dean’s expression cleared, and Castiel felt like he was looking at a mask again. He didn’t like that, as much as he didn’t like the distance between them. Why was it so hard to walk across and touch him right now?

‘No. We broke up, Cas.’

Dean seemed so sincere as he said it, with an undercurrent of sadness too. But it made no sense. They were married, they were long past the point of breaking up. They could only separate or divorce now, and that wasn’t likely to be on the horizon. Was it? But it did explain something about Dean’s demeanour … or was that wishful thinking on Castiel’s part?

‘Why would we do that?’

Castiel felt like they were stepping carefully, trying to work each other out. He wasn’t used to that. He was used to a flow,the way they could predict each other without speaking, could know each other’s minds. Why did he not just know this Dean? Why was this Dean struggling to understand him so much? Castiel watched as he closed his eyes, seemingly concentrating on his breathing, the mask still firmly in place.

‘Cas just … just tell me about us.’

Castiel couldn’t help but smile at the request, even though Dean’s eyes opened and he looked annoyed. It was a game they’d been playing for the past couple of days, telling each other everything. It had helped Castiel fill in some of the gaps.

‘Well, we didn’t break up, that’s for sure. What do you want to know?’

He was stalling, trying to remember the things they had shared the past few days, for anything that might seem relevant to this Dean.

‘Everything. Tell me everything that led us to this house, right now.’

There was something in Dean’s expression that seemed at odds with his words, as though he didn’t really care to hear it, and though Castiel hated that, he couldn’t resist. He was so proud of how well they still worked, how in love they still were. He found himself babbling the highlights.

‘We got together about seven years ago, but we’ve been friends for much longer. We’ve been married five years, but it honestly doesn’t feel like that, Dean. It feels like the honeymoon stage. We have a good life together. And a great sex life, that seems so important to you. And we don’t live too far from Sam and Becky, that’s important to you too. And we have the best nieces in the world, even if Jessie’s a little too hyperactive and Mary’s too confrontational. I think it’s because they’re three, you think it’s because they get excited to see us.’

Castiel took a breath to start talking about John the Puppy and their individual thoughts on why Sam would name a dog after his own father, but Dean jumped in.  
‘We’re married?’ His voice sounded strained, as though this were information that was hard to accept, let alone to repeat. There was a hint of disgust in his tone, which hurt Castiel more than he realised it could.

‘Yes, Dean,’ Castiel had to fight to stop himself from crying at the possibility that Dean was no longer happy with their marriage. It couldn’t be true, could it? ‘Don’t you remember?’

Castiel watched Dean’s expression carefully, wondering when Dean suddenly decided to stop caring about his happiness. That was one of the reasons they worked together too, wasn’t it? They worked to keep each other happy. Dean’s poker face returned, and when he spoke again, he sounded unsure of his words, as though each one was foreign to him.

‘I’m just surprised, that’s all.’

‘You’re the one who proposed.’

This time, Dean didn’t react, at least, not in a physically negative way. He folded his arms instead, and tried to sound casual. But Castiel knew him too well, he knew there was more going on than Dean was expressing. Since when did Dean shut him out this much?

‘I guess it was like, the perfect proposal, huh?’

And Castiel dropped his guard all over again. Maybe he was just imagining the negativity coming from Dean, because in that moment, he’d understood. He’d even used the right expression, the one that sounded like his Dean. Maybe he had just rushed the story, after all, his Dean liked to linger on the details. Castiel just wasn’t sure how to do that, not the way that his husband did it.

‘It really was. I mean, other people might not think it was romantic, but it was so … us. We’d been walking by the river and you stopped us walking, then went down on one knee and said about how much you loved me and then you proposed. It was just us, and the river, and the stars. It was amazing.’

Instead of immediately gushing about the serenity of the river or the blissfulness of being alone, how they felt like the only two people on earth, waxing poetic about the stars being the angels watching them and bestowing their blessings, Dean pressed on. Castiel noticed, but he was hoping to cling to the positives in the hopes that this conversation would revert to familiar ground.

‘And the wedding?’

‘Perfection. Oh Dean, you know I love this story!’

Dean’s mask seemed to be frozen into place, even as Castiel clumsily picked his way through the highlights.

‘So we decided not to have a church wedding. You weren’t really bothered about where we got married, as long as we did. I chose this cute little place, right on the beach, and we had a few friends and family members there. My brother officiated, Sam was best man. We had our first dance to one of those rock songs you used to love.’

Castiel knew he could have explained this better, about how Gabriel almost forgot to call for witnesses, how much funnier Sam’s best man’s speech was than anyone had anticipated. How Dean had sang along to that song - what was it called again? - and made Castiel feel like the only man on earth. How Castiel had worked hard to have a stack of pies instead of a wedding cake, knowing it would make Dean so happy to have his pick of pie fillings. But the Dean in front of him didn’t seem to be concentrating on what was missed out, so much as what was implied.

‘So, what, I’m not into music any more?’

‘Not so much.’

It seemed to kill the conversation. Castiel felt he hadn’t explained that properly either. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t still love music, he just wasn’t as focused on old music as he was. He’d let it go for other things. Part of it was one of the mechanics in the garage, who wouldn’t stop playing R’n’B, and Dean would come home bemoaning the music, wanting to turn it all off because he was so tired of the same repetitive refrains. He’d said before that R’n’B had killed rock’n’roll for him. There was nothing Castiel had managed to do that could have saved it for him. And now it felt like Dean was assuming … what? That Castiel had tried to iron that out of him? Castiel had no intention of transforming his husband. He hated himself for not being able to explain properly to this Dean, and he did the only thing that occurred to him. He changed the subject.

‘So, why’re you by the front door? I thought you were headed into the back yard. And you’re wearing different clothes. You look like a trucker.’

He didn’t mean for it to come out so badly, so judgementally, but he felt so put-upon by this Dean. He instantly regretted it.

‘Look, Cas, this isn’t easy to hear, but we’re not married. We’re not even dating right now. You screwed me over, and I broke us up. You ran into a siren that looked like me about two weeks ago, and it put you in this, this coma-like place. All its other victims woke up, and you’re the only one who won’t. Sam and Charlie, they worked out a way for me to get in here and talk to you, convince you to come home. So would you just come home? We’ll work out whatever we need to, but I need you home. I think … I think you’re dying back there, man.’

Castiel was trying to follow what Dean was saying. He could understand - even if he disliked it - what Dean was saying about their break up. But he felt lost by the mention of sirens, and he barely caught up from there. Was Dean saying he was in an accident? But he felt fine. He felt the best way to tackle this was to reassure Dean of the most important parts. Mainly, his feelings, his commitment. Dean had to know that they were still okay, no matter what.

‘I wouldn’t screw you over, Dean. I love you.’

‘Uh-huh, I wouldn’t have believed it either, but you did. Could you please just listen to me? Come home with me.’

Castiel wasn’t expecting Dean to brush off his efforts like that. It wasn’t how they worked.

‘We are home.’

He didn’t say it to be argumentative, he was truly worried about his husband. But for some reason, this seemed to irritate Dean, who started talking faster, his eyes sparking with unchecked emotion.

‘No, Cas, we’re not. We’re stuck in your head, in some weird fantasy you have about us. It’s not real. And you know what? It would be real selfish of you to stay in here where nothing bad ever happens just because you’re too afraid to deal with the consequences of your actions. Especially when you’re going to leave me to watch you die. You think I could deal with that, Cas?’

‘I’m not dying, Dean,’ Castiel forced a smile, trying to make his tone gentle, to calm Dean down. Maybe then Dean would listen to reason, and stop coming up with such strange statements. For example, Castiel couldn’t think of any actions of his that could come with such major consequences that it would make Dean break up with him. They weren’t that flippant with their feelings for one another. He decided to hammer that point home. ‘And if we’re really broken up then why would it bother you?’

Dean didn’t seem to take it the way Castiel had hoped, where he would have said something about how right Castiel was, it clearly bothered him to think of him as dying so it made no sense for them not to be together. Instead, Castiel watched as he formed fists with his hands, and barely controlled his voice as he let everything tumble out. Whatever this Dean was going through, he was clearly hurting very badly.

‘Are you fucking kidding me right now? Cas, who the fuck do you think came to your rescue from the siren? Who do you think has kept an eye on you for weeks, trying to make sure you’re at least stable? Did you think I’d let my brother come in here and try to reason with you instead of me? You really don’t get it, do you? You’ve won, okay? You’ve won because I still feel this way. Because you can treat me like total crap and I still can’t stay away from you. You’ve won because I-I-‘

He stood there, breathing heavily, and Castiel wondered how else he could have “won”. He didn’t feel like he had won anything, watching Dean fall apart in this way, still unable to approach him through the wall of hostility that Dean seemed to cloak himself with.

‘Whatever. Look, Cas, it’s me. Can’t you just trust me? Or has that gone in your little fantasy world, and it’s just about what you want, all the time?’

Dean misunderstood, so badly. It wasn’t a fantasy, wanting to be on mutual ground. Castiel dropped his gaze to his wedding band, twisting the ring over and over and focusing on the words. Vanilla latte, vanilla latte, vanilla latte. It wasn’t about the coffee, it was the fact they knew each other so well they could know each others needs without constantly having to ask. So why did it suddenly feel like Castiel was getting it so wrong?

‘I trust you, Dean. You know that.’ He forced out, knowing it was weak and pathetic compared to the empowering speeches that Dean was making. His husband had such a way with words, and no idea of the impact of them.

‘Then please, please come home?’

Castiel didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to put across to this Dean that they were home, and safe, with nothing to worry about. He seemed so distressed, and Castiel had no real way of helping him. He could only repeat the truth in the hopes that it would sink in.

‘I am home, Dean. So are you.’

‘This isn’t real, Castiel! None of it’s real! Don’t you get that? The only things that are real in this place are you and me. What’s real is that you are dying in front of me in the bunker, what’s real is that you lied to me, and cheated on me, and took advantage of me, and I’m still here fighting for us, Cas.’

There was something amiss with this Dean. Why would Castiel lie to him? How could he think he would cheat? Who was there to cheat with? And yet Dean seemed to believe it whole-heartedly.

‘Cas, please, just look at me.’

Castiel raised his head, the tone of Dean’s voice being the main trigger rather than the request. He had stopped over-emphasising, and now sounded broken. His facial expression matched the timbre of his voice, his eyes were wide, his gaze swinging wildly around Castiel’s face as though he were hoping for some miracle, a tic pulling in his cheek as though he was fighting back tears. But he must have seen something in Castiel’s expression that he didn’t like, because it seemed like the effort to keep going completely left him.

‘Maybe this was a waste of time.’

This, at least, was something Castiel could get right, no matter what. His confidence that he could at least get that through to Dean carried through in his own voice.

‘No, no it wasn’t, Dean. It never is when it comes to us.’

When Dean looked at him properly, it was with more control, and with a hint of hope. And Castiel could feel that hope fluttering in his own chest, because if they could find some middle ground, and start communicating properly, then they could get back to being happy, and Castiel could work on the rest, on finding out why Dean was so adamant that anything had ever gone wrong between them. He carried on talking, knowing he was on the right track now.

‘You’re right, I need to cut you some slack. I mean, you can drink the beers from the local convenience store if it makes you happy. It doesn’t have to be imported. Even if they’re better.’

Dean’s face became a mask once more, as his voice became curt.

‘Well, thanks Cas, but you’re completely missing the point.’

‘Do you want to top some more? Or have me cook once in a while?’

Castiel felt like he was wildly guessing now, trying to find some problem with their routine that he hadn’t noticed before. They’d been too busy doting on each other to score cheap points, surely? And yet, with Dean like this, it really seemed to matter.

‘Cas, I want you to come with me. I figure if we walk out the front door, we’ll make it back. Will you at least try, for me? Humour me.’

Castiel gave a weak smile as he tried to deal with the fact that Dean wouldn’t leave this idea that they were in the wrong place alone. It was their home, how could it possibly be the wrong place? But then Dean was moving, striding confidently across the room in order to grab Castiel around his waist, bracing him against the doorframe and bearing down on him, kissing him unexpectedly.

The kiss wasn’t something that Castiel had been expecting. There was a wildness to it, a desperation on Dean’s part, and despite that, there was heat. There was electricity. Dean seemed to know without hesitation what would make Castiel weak at the knees, what would make his groin throb with need. It was messy, and passionate, and beyond anything Castiel could ever remember experiencing. His Dean didn’t kiss like this. It was almost pornographic, the way Dean’s mouth was opened around his, the way he ran his tongue along Castiel’s teeth before plunging it along Castiel’s, the way he could probe deep into his mouth and still suck as though he were demanding Castiel’s participation with physical cues that couldn’t be ignored.

And then Castiel got it, a flash of another time that Dean kissed him in this way, urgent and needy. He’d been sitting in a chair in a nondescript room, and Dean was bearing down on him, forcing his head back, kissing him like he owned Castiel, working his body until it was screaming for him-

And then it was gone, and he was back in the moment, back in that incredible kiss of Dean’s, grabbing at his neck, pulling Dean closer, spurring him on. Maybe this was the only thing Dean had wanted, to have more passion in their lives. It was okay by Castiel, to have kisses that were almost as good as sex. But then he heard a strange sound from the back of Dean’s throat, and Dean was pulling away, suddenly unwilling to kiss him any more. It was then that Castiel realised he was crying, sobbing like he was broken. Castiel wasn’t keeping up with the mood swings, wasn’t used to them at all and especially not from Dean, but the last thing he had ever wanted to see was Dean falling apart like this. He wiped a tear away as he tried to comfort the man he loved.

‘Dean? Dean, it’s okay.’

It seemed like a poor gesture, weak, but he pulled Dean close to him, trying to offer some solace. Dean grabbed hold of his shirt, twisting it roughly in his hands, burying his face into Castiel’s shoulder. And Castiel blundered on, stroking his back, whispering that it was okay, that Dean was loved, that they would talk it out. Their marriage could be saved, if that was the thing upsetting him. Slowly, Dean calmed down, and leaned away from him, still looking put upon and saddened by whatever this was.

‘Cas? Are you going to come with me?’

‘I don’t know.’

Castiel felt horrible saying that, but he was so confused. He didn’t know what to think, how to feel, what to believe, and Dean was clearly pressing him to make a decision. Castiel knew that this could have gone so much better than it had. Dean seemed resigned with the answer, as though he had expected nothing less from Castiel, but it didn’t stop him from pushing for something more concrete.

‘Please?’

It was a pressure that Castiel couldn’t deal with right then, not when Dean was so highly emotional.

‘Dean, if what you’re saying is true,’ Castiel was trying to be as explicit as possible without being offensive. He didn’t want to be taken the wrong way. He just wanted to understand the logic of Dean’s point of view. After all, this was his husband, the man who hated conspiracy theories and science fiction. It was an elaborate prank, if that was what it was. ‘If we’re really broken up in a parallel universe, if I’m really dying, then what’s the point?’

‘It could save you!’

Castiel still didn’t understand, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to make himself understand, as much as he might want to. All he understood was that Dean was distressed and making no sense. He tried to soothe Dean instead.

‘I’ll think about it.’

‘No, Cas. We don’t have the time for that.’

Dean let go, and Castiel found himself unable to look at the intense man beside him. Instead, he looked over at one of their wedding photos, that was just to his right. Dean had whispered in his ear a moment before about the photographer’s fly being undone, and the adrenaline of the day had made Castiel burst into laughter, which was the moment that the photographer had caught. Would Dean see their happiness there? Their unity? Or would he see them in tuxes, confetti flying everywhere, pretending to be happy? Castiel hated the doubt that was beginning to creep in. How long had Dean felt this way?

‘Cas? I know it’s not easy, okay? I know you’re happy. But it’s the right thing to do. You think we can’t be happy out there? You think I don’t want to try again? But I can’t do it on my own, okay?’

Castiel nodded, unable to think of what he could even give this version of Dean. There was too much to process, too little time to do it in, and too much expectation that Castiel would ignore everything they’d built for so long. He wanted to at least dwell on that kiss. He didn’t ever remember Dean kissing him like that.

‘Cas?’ Dean sounded like he was pleading, and Castiel looked back at him, worried about this new direction, about how unpredictable Dean was being. ‘Cas I … I love you. I do. And if that means anything, you’ll follow me out of the door. I’ll be waiting for you to wake up. And yeah, it’ll suck at first, but aren’t I worth it?’

And then Dean turned on one foot, and walked out of the front door, leaving Castiel still leaning against the doorframe, feeling completely confused. What had just happened?


	22. Chapter 22

When Castiel had recovered from the surprise confrontation with the overly-emotional Dean, he staggered up the staircase and into their bedroom, pulling open a drawer to one of the dressers, and removing a box. He hauled it over to the side of the bed and sat cross-legged on the floor. He opened the lid carefully, and began lying the contents gently on the floor beside him. The pressed carnations from their button holes, the table placeholders, the small booklet from the service, all of them were treated with the utmost care until he reached the thick ivory covered book at the bottom. This he balanced across his knees and began to look through slowly.

Dean looked so handsome, in all the pictures. He was clean-shaven, his hair waxed into shape, and the colour of his bowtie seemed to make his eyes pop, although that may have been due to the photographer’s skill. Still, when Castiel scrutinised the pictures, there was nothing but sheer happiness on Dean’s face. He was smiling in every picture, his eyes nearly always trained on Castiel.

So he had been happy during their wedding, at least. He seemed very much in love, just like Castiel was. It made even less sense then, for Dean to be so upset.

Two arms encircled his neck, as a leg slid either side of his body, and Dean was leaning down on him, sitting on the bed.

‘I was freezing my ass off out there,’ he murmured, kissing Castiel’s cheek.

‘Sorry.’ Castiel felt even more confused. This seemed like the Dean he was married to … so what had just happened?

‘It’s okay. What made you stop and look through the wedding pictures?’

So Castiel explained, as best as he could, about the agitated version of Dean who had burst through the door and blurted a lot of confusing information. And his Dean listened patiently, stroking one of his arms as Castiel talked.

‘Honey, maybe you need to lay down,’ Dean’s voice was soothing. ‘I’m the only Dean.’

It was just like his Dean, to dismiss the idea of doppelgängers. It was up there with aliens, fairies and ghosts on a list of things Dean couldn’t accept even the notion of. But Castiel knew the truth, he knew that the other Dean had been there, had begged him for things that made no sense, had kissed him so passionately, almost violently, and turned him on so much that he had almost followed him out of the house. That kiss alone had confirmed how very real that Dean was.

In comparison, his Dean’s kisses, though pleasant, had none of the fire that the other Dean seemed full of. He would wonder if they had lost that in the years of their marriage, but he didn’t think they’d ever had that heat between them. He closed the photograph album slowly, and began placing everything back in the box with care, before turning around between Dean’s legs, sitting up and pressing kisses onto Dean’s face.

‘Hey, hey, okay,’ Dean laughed, grabbing hold of Castiel’s shoulders, and pushing him away slightly. ‘Come on, Cas. Where’s all this coming from?’

‘I love you!’ Castiel suddenly felt like this was vital information. Dean had to know how strong their love was, surely?

‘I love you too-‘ Dean was cut off from saying anything else by Castiel pushing for another kiss, deeper and more urgent. Instead of kissing him back, of being anything like the Dean who had offset Castiel’s entire world, Dean stopped reacting entirely. Castiel eventually pulled away, feeling suddenly ashamed of himself, but not quite sure why. Was it wrong to want that heat again?

‘Dean?’

‘What’s really going on, Castiel? You’re acting like we’re in porn or something.’

Castiel thought that was actually a great way to describe the kiss they’d shared. Or at least, him and the other Dean. He suddenly felt like he couldn’t share that thought, too worried that his Dean would think he had cheated as well. Did it count as cheating, when they were both Dean?

‘Baby, you should really lay down. I’m getting worried. Come on, I’ll help you.’

Castiel didn’t resist as Dean stood him up, stripped him of his clothes, and helped him into the bed. Instead, he kept thinking about the other Dean, and his intensity, his desperation. Castiel wanted to know more about this Dean, about what led him to be in such a state, how he had managed to come into Castiel’s life and why he had thought that he was his Cas.

Maybe there were parallel worlds? And in each one was a Dean and a Castiel at various points in their relationships. It made Castiel ache for the Dean that had found his way to him. He obviously wasn’t having a great time with his Castiel, and this Castiel felt awful for him. He should have made more of an effort to find out what had happened, worked out some way to help him instead of standing there, too stunned and confused to have been any assistance.

His Dean was pulling the bed covers up, tucking them under his chin, and sitting beside him, stroking his hair.

‘Aren’t you going to get in bed with me?’ Castiel asked bashfully. Dean shook his head.

‘No. How can I take care of you if I’m in there too?’

Castiel smiled weakly, as Dean bent down to bestow a small kiss on his temple, before leaving the room. He rolled over in the giant bed, thinking again of the other Dean. Castiel couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something going on with that Dean that concerned him specifically. Did that Dean think his Cas was here? Is that why he’d baulked at the idea of their marriage? After all, that Dean didn’t seem happy with the break up he’d gone through with his Castiel, it must have stung even more to walk into their happy home.

His Dean came back in the room with another tray of food, though Castiel didn’t feel hungry. He didn’t feel like staying trussed up in bed, either. He loved his Dean, but he couldn’t be stuck in the house for much longer. When had he last left their home? Maybe the other Dean had been on to something when he talked about leaving through the front door.

‘Okay, baby, I got you some chicken broth.’

‘Thanks, Dean, but I don’t want any. How about we go for a walk? Down by the river where you proposed.’

Dean sat beside him on the bed again.

‘What’s gotten into you? One moment, we’re planning outdoor sex, and the next you’re talking about my twin and trying to kiss me like some slut. And now you want to go walking for the first time in months?’

The words stung, and Castiel tried to convince himself that Dean didn’t mean it, even as in the back of his mind, he began to wonder whether the other Dean would react the same way. And then Castiel felt as though he was cheating, even though he was sure that the other Dean would never talk to him like that. The other Dean was vehement in the way he talked, but he was straight talking. He had lost his Cas, but he was still respectful.

Castiel hated himself for putting his marriage under the microscope in this way. He wanted to wish the other Dean’s visit away, but he couldn’t shake the memory however much he wanted to. It was as though his brain was trying to tell him something important about the visit, something he needed to engage with and take action on.

‘You’re right. Of course you are, sweetie. I just have to sleep it off a little. Maybe I’m coming down with something.’

‘Want me to stay around?’

‘No, it’s okay. If you have anything to do, it’s fine. I’ll be fine.’

Dean nodded.

‘Okay. I need to head into work for a couple of hours.’ He made to get up from the bed.

‘Dean?’ Castiel sounded extra pathetic. ‘Maybe when you get back, we could talk about adopting or something?’

‘You really are coming down with a bug.’

‘Or getting a puppy or a kitten? Something?’

‘We’ll talk about it, Cas. Maybe we’ll get a guinea pig.’

Dean left the room, and Cas gripped his head. Why did guinea pig resonate in his head so much? That seemed more important than kids or a pet cat. It was annoying how details like that seemed to stand out so much when he couldn’t really remember his own wedding day without Dean’s prompts, just like it was annoying how much the other Dean had lodged himself into Castiel’s mind.

Castiel waited until he heard Dean leave for work before he climbed out of bed again, slipping on a shirt and a pair of pants, and heading back down the stairs to stand in the entrance hall, and stare at the front door. He leaned against his doorframe again, replaying the entire conversation, trying to make some sense of it.

Other Dean had let him speak first, had let him talk of their life together. Like he was sounding Castiel out for information. How had Castiel not realised at the time? His Dean wouldn’t do that, but it seemed to come so easily to Other Dean. It felt like it made sense, from Other Dean.

And at least Other Dean had mentioned Sam. Castiel was relieved at least one relationship in Other Dean’s life still seemed steady. He wondered if they were just as close as they were in the real world, where Castiel saw his brother-in-law at least once a week, usually with Becky and the girls in tow. Although, Castiel couldn’t figure out who the other person Dean had mentioned was. He had said; “Sam and Charlie” and Castiel hoped that Charlie wasn’t Sam’s girlfriend in their dimension. He was very fond of Becky.

What else had Other Dean said? That he was being selfish, and he had to face the consequences of his actions. As far as Castiel could tell, Other Castiel had hurt Dean, and that’s what he needed to face. Castiel tried not to let it bother him, but it was so hard, because he was taking it to heart. How could they even begin to hurt each other? Dean had mentioned cheating, but that was completely beyond Castiel’s imagination. Maybe Other Dean and Other Cas had some major misunderstanding, and Other Dean only thought Castiel had cheated?

Everything else was really repetitive, with Other Dean’s constant pleas for him to walk out of the front door. At the time it had merely been confusing, but now that Castiel was reflecting, it seemed to be a verbalisation of Other Dean’s desperation. It seemed like he really thought there was some merit in walking out of the front door, some major solution, as though Castiel was his, the one that belonged in the parallel universe with him.

Other Dean had certainly kissed him as though they belonged together. That kiss still made Castiel’s entire body tingle, and sent a jolt deep down into his stomach. That kiss was something else altogether. Castiel’s knees felt weak just thinking about it. If Dean had just come in and kissed him like that, and suggested leaving the house, Castiel would have gone, no hesitation.

Was Castiel seriously contemplating walking out on his marriage for the man who looked like his husband and kissed like a demon? He turned his gaze unwillingly from the front door to look at the wedding picture he’d been staring at only hours before, at the Dean he knew. _His_ Dean. The happy-go-lucky guy, the one who liked his life organised and obvious. The guy who could cook and make jokes and be almost puppy-like in his craving for attention. The man he loved. It was normal for marriages to become routine, Castiel knew that, and Dean had joked that they’d always been routine, so there was nothing to change. At least their marriage did have a little spark, they experimented in the bedroom a decent amount. It was too much to ask that Dean made him weak at the knees in the same way, wasn’t it?

He was so confused. He wanted the other Dean to come back, so they could talk more and reach a mutual understanding, the way he and his Dean could do so easily. He hadn’t tried enough for the other Dean, the one who clearly needed him. Or if not him, the Castiel who was meant to be with him. But there was no way of getting him back, not without following instructions and leaving by the front door. Castiel assumed that was still in play, that there wasn’t a time limit on when he could follow Other Dean.

But he wouldn’t be leaving his Dean high and dry. He couldn’t. How could he just walk out on his husband? He walked through the house until he reached their tiny study, where he pulled a sheet of paper out of a drawer and took a pen from the desk, scribbling out a hastily-worded explanation of what he was trying to do. He promised to be back as soon as he was able, and that he loved Dean more than life itself, and that was why he was going away for a few days. He left the note on the counter in the kitchen, and doubled back into the dining room for the photograph of the two of them he loved the most, of them on the fallen tree. He wanted to keep something with his Dean close beside him as he tried to find and help Other Dean. He tucked it into his pants pocket, and headed back out to the hallway of the house, breathing slowly and deliberately as he crossed the threshold and grabbed the knob. And then he held his breath, and twisted his hand, forcing the door open before closing his eyes and stepping forward, out of the house.

*

There was a beeping in the room, faint but steady. A pressure on his finger, and something uncomfortable along his arm. He blinked his eyes open to a nondescript ceiling, and looked around the room groggily.

The walls were olive green, and the furniture looked like cheap plywood covered in veneer. There was a wall display of bowie knives, and a few photographs pinned just above the desk. To Castiel’s left, beside the bed, was a monitor showing two green lines, and a small stand with a bag attached, and a line feeding into his arm, to the uncomfortable site. The beeping sound seemed to be coming from the monitor, which was connected to the peg on his finger. He pulled it off, and the beeping turned onto one continuous note, louder than before. He reached over and fumbled for a button to stop the noise, before pulling the bag line out and yelling in pain. His yell seemed to have reached someone, because he could hear footsteps approaching quickly. He placed his other hand over his left arm, trying to stop the pain, noticing the blood that seeped from under his fingers.

‘Castiel? Castiel!’ Becky came flying into the room, hugging the ex-angel before looking down at his arm. ‘Did you rip the IV line out?’

Castiel wasn’t sure what she was asking, but the sting in his arm was awful, and if it meant that she could help him in some way to stop the ache and the blood flow, he would do pretty much anything. He nodded.

‘Okay, well, you’re applying pressure, that’s good. The first aid kit’s in the kitchen, we’ll get you cleaned up in there. Dean’s in there, eating breakfast.’

At the mention of Dean, Castiel’s stomach swooped. He could remember everything from the dream, and almost everything that had happened before it.

‘Is Dean … will he … is he mad at me?’ Castiel didn’t really want the answer, knowing that any answer would be a yes hidden by niceness. It was Becky he was asking, after all.

‘He’s been worried sick about you. He was talking about how he was going to save you if you die. So he’ll probably be a jerk when he sees you because he can’t admit to that. That’s what Sam thinks anyway. Just ride it out.’

Castiel nodded, feeling nauseated and dizzy.

‘Thanks Becky.’

‘It’s okay. We’ve got to stick together, right?’

Becky smiled, and Castiel felt slightly better.

‘You know, it’s so weird, I was going to the bathroom to freshen up because Dean was being so morbid about you not waking up, and then I heard a yell and came in here and … I’m so glad I was the one to come find you.’ She helped Castiel stand up, and led him through the bunker towards the first aid kit, and Dean. ‘You’re not mad that I found you awake, are you? I know you’d prefer it if it was Dean-‘

‘It’s fine, Becky. I’m glad they weren’t on a case.’

‘Yeah well, Dean’s not really been on the ball since they found you in the siren’s lair. Oh, wait,’ She pressed a finger to her lips, as they got closer to the kitchen, and could hear Sam and Dean talking about, of all things, real estate. And then she was raising her voice slightly, just around the corner from the kitchen. ‘Guys? Better cook some more food.’

She squeezed Castiel’s elbow gently and led him into the kitchen. He was glad that she was in the lead, because he wouldn’t be able to move without her assistance, too scared of Dean’s reaction. He shuffled forward, avoiding Sam and Charlie’s eyes, and scanning the room for Dean, who had his back to them as he stood by the stove. Castiel looked away quickly, and tried to focus instead on Becky patching up the wound in his arm. He needed a little time before dealing with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I don't normally talk on these. I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to read this story, and its counterpart, Date With An Angel. I hope you're all enjoying it!


	23. Chapter 23

Becky took her time cleaning Castiel’s arm, applying alcohol to the small wound which made Castiel suck in a deep breath, and then taping some gauze over the site. The kitchen remained quiet as she worked, and as Dean stayed busy at the stove. In the meantime, Castiel tried to think about what to do, what he could possibly say to Dean. Did Dean even want to talk?

‘There you go. All better. I’ll change the dressing tonight, okay? And for now, you should probably eat.’ Becky turned to put everything back into the first aid kit, and Castiel knew that he was being dismissed, though he wasn’t ready, not yet. He felt disoriented, and he needed someone to help him along. He seriously doubted whether anyone else would help him. Dean was still mad at him, they were still broken up, and Sam and Charlie would definitely be on Dean’s side. Becky was the only buffer from Dean’s temper that Castiel had.

Dean placed a plate of food and a mug just in front of Castiel without even looking at him, and then climbed back onto the seat he’d clearly been sitting on before, stabbing a fork into the food on his own plate. Castiel watched him for a moment with a stifling weight in his chest, before he looked down at the meal that Dean had provided for him. Pancakes. He lifted his fork gingerly, and prodded one of the small dark lumps in the cake, unable to believe his eyes. Dean had made him blueberry pancakes? He looked at the mug as well, and saw something frothy inside. Was it too much to hope that Dean had made him the same breakfast that Castiel remembered him making in his illusions? What did it mean?

He slowly cut a triangle of fluffy pancake, trying to avoid all eye contact, and put it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. It tasted nothing like he’d imagined, nothing like it had in the dream or mirage, or whatever it was. It was sweeter, with a fresh burst when he hit a blueberry. It was better than he could have imagined, light and fluffy and delicious. He grabbed the drink, sipping it slowly, wondering if it would taste anything like how he’d imagined, or if it too could surpass his expectations. It was foamy and frothy as he’d expected, and although there was a sweetness to the drink, it was still fairly bitter.

He lost himself in eating the meal Dean had provided, and it was only as he was finishing up that he realised they knew he was human. They would have to, or Becky would never have ordered him to eat, and Dean wouldn’t have cooked for him in the first place. How much did Dean know? Castiel risked a glance at his ex-lover, but Dean was on his phone, his eyes trained on the screen. Sam was talking quietly to his brother, out of Castiel’s earshot, and Charlie was watching Castiel, scrutinising his every move. Becky had finished putting the first aid kit away, and was instead scribbling away on a notepad, concentrating hard on what she was writing. Castiel felt so disjointed, so far away from all of them, despite there only being a few feet of distance. They were so used to being human, and they were all on good terms with each other. It made Castiel feel lonely, and like a stranger to the people who should have mattered.

‘If you’re finished, you should wash up,’ Charlie announced the moment Castiel swallowed the last mouthful. He barely glanced back in her direction before he was scraping his chair back, picking up his things, and then having them taken out of his hands almost instantly.

‘How about we don’t have any broken plates?’ Dean said tonelessly as he took Castiel’s things to the sink himself. Castiel felt awful, Dean wouldn’t even look at him, wouldn’t speak to him, and was treating him like a child. And yet Castiel knew that he deserved some of Dean’s anger, deserved some of the vitriol, because he had put Dean through a lot. He couldn’t shake the image of Dean crying over him, pleading with him to do the right thing.

‘I want to help, Dean,’ he said softly, following the hunter. Dean ignored him, or at least seemed to judge that it was best not to answer. Castiel couldn’t work out what to do, how to get Dean to talk to him again. How were they supposed to sort everything out and work on their relationship if Dean wasn’t speaking to him? ‘Dean?’

‘Hey, Charlie, did Becky show you that thing?’ Sam said loudly, when it became clear that Dean wasn’t going to acknowledge Castiel.

‘Thing?’ Charlie sounded confused.

‘Yeah, that thing.’ Sam sounded like he was making a pointed argument, and Castiel looked over his shoulder at the younger hunter, who was gesturing to the door. Becky joined in.

‘Oh, that thing! No, I haven’t shown Charlie. Come on.’ She grabbed Charlie by the arm and pulled her out of the door, Sam following them as he went. He turned in the doorway and caught Castiel’s eye, winking as he did. Castiel mouthed a _thank you_ at him, before turning back to Dean, who was watching his brother leave too, Castiel’s cup in his hands and coated in suds. From the hallway, they could hear the girls whispered voices, and Sam exclaiming, slightly louder, ‘Because they’re going to be so freaking awkward as it is, Charlie! And trust me, you don’t want to be around when the make up sex starts.’

Castiel looked away from Dean then, not sure he that he wanted eye contact if Dean were to turn to him. But he still couldn’t resist being near the hunter, in the hopes that the tension between them would soon alleviate itself. Dean didn’t start washing the cup again until the voices had long since faded away, and they were alone in the kitchen again. Castiel wanted to ask him what he was thinking, get him to open up again, but he knew he had to go slowly, and address the more important issues first. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out the mundane.

‘How did you know, Dean? About the pancakes?’

Castiel could see a tic in Dean's cheek and knew that he was fighting himself not to answer. He pressed on.

‘How did you know to put the blueberries in? You did in that other world, and you made the same drink, but it was even better here-‘

‘It was a dream, Cas.’ Dean practically barked at him. ‘Your dream. Don't hold me accountable for stuff you make up.’

Castiel felt the sting of his words, but he couldn't help himself from carrying on.

‘But I hadn't had either of them, and you still made them. That has to mean something.’

Dean finished washing up, and grabbed a dish towel to start drying.

‘I figured you'd girl up your coffee. If I could make the coffee machine make a mocha-choca-skinny-whatever-bullshit, you would've got that. And I told you about pancakes, our first date. Now you're human I figured I should make that right.’

The words would have been nice if Dean hadn't sneered everything out. It took Castiel a moment to figure out what Dean had said, hidden amongst the temper.

‘I don't remember discussing pancakes at paintball.’

‘I don't count paintball. I'm talking about going for breakfast the next day.’

Where Dean had said Castiel was missing out but would make for a cheap date. Despite Dean's gruff demeanour, there was something touching about him cooking pancakes specifically for Castiel based on a conversation from an old date.

‘How did you know I was human now?’

‘How else would you have been caught up in that siren’s spell?’ Dean deflected the question, which really gave Castiel the answer he’d been anticipating.

‘Meg? You saw Meg? She told you-‘

‘Will you shut up?’ Dean snapped, punctuating the sentiment by slamming Castiel’s plate down on the drainer, and Castiel couldn’t help but flinch.

‘Why can’t I talk about Meg? She’s my friend.’

Dean didn’t respond, or even look at Castiel. Instead, he drained the sink of water and grabbed a dish towel to begin drying his hands. Castiel couldn’t help but be reminded of the easy way they worked together to do something as simple as the dishes in his dream. He knew this version of Dean wouldn’t let him anywhere near the tableware. Eventually, the hunter turned to him, still not meeting his eye, and pointed wordlessly at the table. Castiel took the hint, and sat in one of the chairs, feeling a slight relief when Dean sat in the seat beside him.

‘Okay. Let’s talk Meg,’ Dean’s voice was still clipped, and Castiel could feel a burning sensation in the pit of his stomach. ‘So exactly how long did you leave it after I broke up with you before you went off with her?’

The words didn’t make sense to Castiel, but he didn’t want to admit that to Dean.

‘I got summoned to Heaven, not long after you went for a drive in the Impala-‘

‘I don’t need a run down of your life, Cas. I just want that answer.’ Dean interrupted harshly. Castiel tried to stand his ground.

‘If you listen to the story, Dean, you’ll hear how I ended up with Meg, okay?’ He forced his voice not to shake. ‘In Heaven, they stripped me of my grace, saying it was because of how I treated you, and then threw me back to earth. I think I ended up in Texas. I spent about three days just trying to get back to Becky’s house, hoping you would have gone back there, hoping I could explain everything and you’d at least listen, even if you never took me back. And her house was empty, but Meg showed up and said she’d been waiting for me, that she had a message for me.’ Dean made to interrupt, and Castiel pushed on, knowing that Dean’s interjection would be snarky, and then he would never get the words out. ‘I told her I wasn’t interested, okay Dean? But then she said she would help me get to you, she could just about work out where the bunker was. She offered me a ride, that’s all. We stopped at a motel halfway to here because she thought someone was running the plates on the car she stole, and we were going to share a room, but then I went for food and I thought I saw you and the next thing I know …’

Castiel couldn’t speak about the marriage fantasy. It hurt too much to reflect on it, even though it haunted most of his thoughts. Dean was staring at the top of the table, his tongue fixed inside his cheek.

‘You um, you said that you’d fought the siren?’ Castiel pressed softly. ‘When I was under its spell, and you found a way to talk to me?’

Dean still wouldn’t make eye contact. It was driving Castiel crazy.

‘I said I rescued you from it.’ Dean corrected.

‘That’s the same thing, isn’t it?’

Dean exhaled noisily.

‘So it took you a few days to hook up with her.’ Dean refused to entertain Castiel’s question, even though he was demanding answers. To Castiel, it wasn’t fair. There was no question about whether he’d made mistakes and hurt Dean, but Dean wasn’t exactly blameless either, and Castiel was hurting too. But he knew even addressing that would create even more bad feeling between them.

‘I didn’t “hook up” with her, Dean. She offered to help me. She was trying to warn me about Vibeke encouraging the other angels to strip me of my powers. Like I said, she was being my friend. I’m not complaining about you spending time with Charlie.’

Dean pursed his lips, and Castiel waited for the fallout.

‘So you’re jealous of Charlie? Still?’ Dean snorted with dry laughter. ‘Well, you can relax, Castiel, because first off, she’s a lesbian and so far removed from being interested in me, and second because I never kissed her on one of our dates.’

The silence that fell between them was almost deafening. It took Castiel far too long to realise that maybe this was what Dean had been referring to when he had accused Castiel of cheating on him.

‘I thought we cleared that up?’

Dean gave that dry, humourless laugh again.

‘Right. Doesn’t really work when you were erasing all my memories and using it to your advantage. You made it sound like it was an innocent mistake, Cas. Not you making out with a demon while we were on a date. So no, your poor excuse for an apology doesn’t count.’

‘Dean-‘

‘I was trying to win a stupid toy for you, Cas. I had to work the carnie to win that for you, because you made it seem like such a big deal to have one. And I turned around and you’re tongue deep in Meg.’

‘I never asked her to, okay? She kept saying you weren’t interested, you were going through the motions, and she could help. And I told her to go away, and she did it anyway. And okay, I didn’t push her away straight away, she took me by surprise, but I did when I could, and you’d already walked away. You didn’t let me explain-‘  
‘So you wipe my memory?’

Castiel could feel tears prickling in his eyes. Dean wasn’t even going to try to listen, was he? Even though he’d promised that he wanted to try, that he wanted them back on track.

‘I panicked, Dean. You left me alone in that carnival, you didn’t ask questions, you didn’t even try to find out what had happened. You just made the assumption I was cheating on you. And the guilt that I didn’t push Meg off straight away was eating me up, that’s why I apologised, even if you didn’t remember it happening.’ A tear rolled down his cheek, and Castiel wiped it away slowly, using the heel of his hand like a child. ‘Why would I fight so hard to be with you just to throw it all away like that?’

The tears began to fall thick and fast, and Castiel couldn’t wipe them away fast enough. He was starting to feel like the entire situation was useless. He should never have left his fantasy world.

‘Why did you wipe my memories, anyway?’ Dean sounded a little less stern, a little more compassionate. Castiel didn’t trust it. ‘That’s what I don’t get.’

‘I was being selfish,’ Castiel mumbled.

‘That doesn’t make sense.’ Dean’s tone was gentle. It was as though Castiel’s tears had flipped a switch inside the hunter, because he turned in his chair and took Castiel’s hands carefully, holding them in his own on Castiel’s knee. ‘Look, Cas, you get why I need to ask this stuff don’t you? Why I’m angry? You’re an angel, you gotta know right from wrong.’

Castiel looked at his hands, wedged in Dean’s, at the way Dean’s thumbs were stroking gently across his knuckles, at the state of his nails and the way they somehow still fit together.

‘I do, Dean. I knew it wasn’t a great solution, but it made sense at the time.’

‘I still don’t get it.’

Castiel chanced a look up at Dean’s face. The hunter was watching him, his eyes guarded but the venom had left them. It didn’t ease Castiel’s mind to see Dean so tolerable however, because he knew it couldn’t last. He knew Dean was going to get angry again the second he admitted everything. He would deserve it, and Dean deserved to hear the truth, no matter how much it made Castiel miserable.

‘Do you remember, just after you agreed to go out with me, when you were telling me about past dates you’d had so we could work out what we were going to do?’ He made himself stare into Dean’s eyes as he asked. Dean bobbed his head once in a nod, and Castiel made himself carry on. ‘Do you remember me saying that I wanted to do something similar to what you were describing one time, and your response was to ask me how many dates I was expecting.’

Dean’s expression changed minutely, his eyes squinted slightly, and his lips quivered as though he were talking himself through the past scene.

‘And I turned it around on you, because I knew I couldn’t cap it, I didn’t want to lose you once I got you, but I think that scared you. So I gave you the control. But I guess no answer was going to be good enough, because there would be a limit no matter what. Still, Dean … did you have to say only one date?’

Castiel felt such a mix of emotions at that point, desperation for Dean to assure him that he had changed his mind, fear of Dean’s reaction, and an echo of the ache that had come with Dean’s decision for one date. He couldn’t stop talking now, even as Dean’s brow furrowed and he pouted in concentration.

‘I know it was selfish of me, I know I should have talked with you more, but I’d worked so hard to even to get you to agree to that one date, I didn’t know how to get you to agree to any more. I thought it was the best solution, I’d get all the dates I wanted, and you still got your one. But then it didn’t go so well, because I kept wanting more and every time we started again, I hated myself for doing it. But I couldn’t stop, because what if the day I did was the day you didn’t want me any more?’

Dean looked ready to answer, but he didn’t get the chance to. The entire bunker began to shake, and a piercing noise rang through both their ears.

‘Dean?’ Castiel pleaded with his ex-boyfriend, as though his name carried another question. Dean seemed to know what Castiel was asking.

‘Angels, its angels. Cover your eyes,’ Dean pulled him closer, helping to block Castiel’s eyes and cover his ears, while protecting his own head from the onslaught of the angelic arrivals. Castiel secretly hoped that the angels would never come, because it was wonderful to be pressed close to Dean once more, embracing the scent of leather-wood-and-spice that clung to the hunter. But then reason caught up with the ex-angel, and he clung tighter to Dean. Somehow, this was connected to his ultimatum, which he had all but forgotten about in his determination to get to the hunter. The time limit couldn’t be up already, it had only been a week. Still, he had a bad feeling that the next time he opened his eyes would be the last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I don't comment much on these posts. I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reads, or gives kudos, or posts a comment. I feel like I've grown a lot as a writer doing this story, and its counterpart, and I really hope you've all enjoyed reading it. There's only a few chapters left, but I am planning on a few connected one shots too.


	24. Chapter 24

It seemed to Castiel that the room would never stop shaking, that the piercing, shrill siren would plague his ears forever, but he could cope with it if it meant Dean would remain pressed so close to him. He’d missed it, forgotten how much he loved that intense smell that clung to Dean’s clothes which seemed to be his entire essence. He sniffed hungrily, knowing that they only had a few moments left together. He was determined that his last memory would be of Dean somehow.

And then the room seemed to return to normal, and the silence felt as deafening as the angel’s arrival, and still Dean didn’t let go of Castiel, and the ex-angel felt completely confused. The conversation they’d been having had been terse, and Dean had seemed angry, so what did it mean that he was still holding Castiel as though he were protecting him? Did Dean realise how much harder it would be to accept his fate when he was treating Castiel like this?

‘Castiel,’ Naomi’s voice rang through the room, as though it were amplified with power. Castiel couldn’t talk, his throat felt too dry. Instead he swallowed, and buried further into Dean, realising how badly he was shaking as he did so. His fingers were digging so hard into Dean’s shirt that he was sure he would wear a hole in it. Dean spoke, his voice rough and rasping, and Castiel knew he should release his hold a little bit there was no way he could.

‘I don’t think he wants to talk right now.’

Did Castiel imagine it, or did Dean squeeze him back?

‘This is not your business, Winchester.’

‘If it involves Cas, it’s all my business.’

Castiel squeezed his eyes closed even tighter, wishing he knew what Dean was thinking. He assumed that Dean’s hatred of his siblings was outweighing any of their problems at that moment, and Dean’s attitude was very much about screwing the angels over. It had nothing to do with Castiel.

‘Fine. Castiel, your time limit has expired. You haven’t completed the task at hand. Let go of the human and come here.’

Naomi sounded stern, and Castiel’s heart sank. Would she kill him now, in front of Dean? Or would she take him back to Heaven for one last glimpse of the place before he met his fate? He didn’t want to go, didn’t want to loosen his hold of Dean. He couldn’t move anyway, even if he wanted to, because when would he next get the chance to see Dean?

‘Who is this chick?’

Dean muttered it so quietly, that Castiel wasn’t sure if he was meant to hear or not. He used to be able to hear Dean muttering from across the room, and it stung a little that he could no longer hear so well. He felt stifled, being human, but it was better than the reason Vibeke and Naomi were there. And Castiel knew that they, at least would have no problem hearing Dean. Naomi’s answer was fairly reasonable, considering Dean’s rudeness.

‘My name is Naomi. Castiel, I’m waiting.’

‘Well, you’re going to keep waiting sweetheart, he’s not going anywhere.’ Castiel was almost positive that Dean squeezed him again that time. He so wanted to believe that Dean was standing up to Naomi out of love, and not to be a belligerent fool. ‘What was this timed task about, anyway?’

Castiel heard Vibeke snigger, and felt Dean tense beneath his grip. As for Castiel, he couldn’t understand the mirth, the glee that had caused Vibeke to laugh. It was as though she were delighting in the notion that Castiel was about to die, but that didn’t compute for Castiel. Wasn’t she still in love with him? Or her weak version of it, anyway, since angelic emotions seemed so muted compared to the wildness of being human. But if she did care for him, or was still adamant that the follow a million-year-old protocol, then why would his destruction appeal to her? He really didn’t understand it.

‘So this is the perfect relationship you screwed Heaven over for? You don’t even talk to each other?’

Castiel felt sick. That must be what she was so enthused about, that Castiel had failed to make Dean love him again, that they were still having problems. But reason was beginning to catch up with Castiel, and he quickly did the maths. It had taken him a day to reach the bus stop, and two days waiting there. Another day on the bus, and one with Meg, just. Three days in that strange dreamland, and today. He’d only had nine days out of the entire month. They couldn’t have come to kill him already, he still had plenty of time. He wanted to relax, but Dean was shuffling them around, so that he could talk to Naomi directly, instead of turning away from Castiel to do so. The ex-angel waited patiently for Dean’s next move.

‘Naomi?’

‘Castiel was given a month to salvage your relationship.’

So Naomi knew the time frame, she must have been aware of how far they were falling short. Dean’s body tensed again, and Castiel wished he could make himself move, just to soothe the irate hunter.

‘And?’ Dean sounded as though he couldn’t care less, and Castiel was unsure as to whether his tone referred to the time limit, their relationship, or Naomi and Vibeke’s involvement.

‘And?’ Naomi repeated, sounding puzzled. Perhaps she too, found Dean somewhat enigmatic. Although she probably didn’t find him as verile as Castiel did when his Alpha Male gene kicked in.

‘You said he failed. Even though time’s not up and it’s not like it’s any of your goddamn business. So what’s the punishment? He becomes your lapdog, huh?’  
It seemed Dean had done the maths too, and for the first time since Castiel had woken up - probably since Dean had walked out of Becky’s house - Castiel wondered how Dean had coped in the last nine days, whether he’d been driven to see Castiel again as well, or whether he had pretended Castiel didn’t exist or … he wasn’t sure. Maybe Dean had spent the last week completely inebriated.

‘The time limit has lapsed.’

‘It’s not been a month. We have about three days left.’

Maybe Castiel was incorrect about Dean’s math skills. How could they vary so widely in their calculations? How did Dean account for those additional days? Dean was muttering under his breath again, and though Castiel didn’t hear it this time, he could guess that it was something profane about Naomi and Vibeke. In this instance, Cas agreed with him. But still, he couldn’t make himself move, couldn’t accomplish anything except to grip onto Dean like a life raft. The hunter didn’t seem to particularly mind, though he was preoccupied with the conversation at hand.

‘And besides,’ Dean’s voice was raised, and Castiel recognised the signs of an impending rant. ‘Do we look like we’re not together? Do we look like there’s not something there? Not like it’s anything to do with you.’

Castiel had to think Deans words through slowly. Yes, by all appearances, by the way he was clutching at Dean, and Dean was holding him back, they seemed very much a unit. But the heart-breaking, chest-aching truth was that they probably never would be again. Castiel could see what Dean was attempting, however. He just couldn’t understand why.

‘Are you saying you’re back together?’

Naomi asked the question cautiously, as though she were checking against some misinformation. Castiel wondered what information they had in the first place, whether he was a conduit for the angels decision to act. He forced his inner monologue to sound unsurprised by Dean’s assertion that they were once again an item.

‘I’m saying we had a fight. I’m not going to be threatened by freaking angels every time we don’t see eye-to-eye. I’m not going to act differently just because that one over there,’ Dean’s head pivoted away from Castiel, and the ex-angel knew he was nodding towards Vibeke. ‘Can’t let him go. Was this her idea, huh?’

Castiel hadn’t even begun to think of Naomi and Vibeke’s motivations. And although it seemed true enough for Vibeke, it left Castiel curious as to how she had hoodwinked Naomi into believing that their time limit was up. There had to be some foul play somewhere, Castiel decided. Dean wasn’t done yelling at either angel.

‘Well, fine. You stand over there, I’ll go to that corner. And we’ll call him over like a puppy dog. Whoever he chooses, wins. But I tell you now, you son of a bitch, he’s not letting go.’

Dean was most definitely annoyed, but Castiel was glad that Dean at least knew him well enough to be confident of the outcome. He would never, ever pick Vibeke over Dean.

‘So, anyway, there’s still three days, bye.’

Dean’s head shifted again, as though he were cuddling closer to Castiel, and finally the ex-angel found his tongue.

‘Three weeks,’ he whispered to his lover. ‘We still have three weeks.’

Dean tensed once more, and Castiel couldn’t understand why, unless he was correct and Dean was lying like crazy to Naomi and Vibeke. Maybe it was best that Castiel remained quiet, so he didn’t upset Dean further.

‘We don’t, Cas.’ Dean whispered quickly, and then raised his voice again. ‘You never said what the punishment was.’

Naomi’s answer was brisque, and her tone businesslike, and it cut through Castiel’s core in a similar way to Dean’s dismissal did.

‘Castiel will be terminated.’

This time, Castiel was ready for Dean squeezing him as his muscles bunched together.

‘Because we had one fight?’

Castiel wished that he could rephrase things as well as Dean did. Phrasing their break up as a fight seemed to make the punishment seem overly dramatic.

‘I don’t think you fully understand, Dean.’ Naomi’s tone was condescending, in Castiel’s opinion. His nails dug into Dean’s flesh even further. It sounded as though it didn’t matter what Dean said, how trivial he made the break up sound, Heaven had made their decision and that decision was Castiel’s death. But Dean surprised him, though maybe he shouldn’t have, because he refused to take Naomi’s decision for a final answer.

‘Uh-uh, no way. He’s mine. And we’re not going to jump every time Heaven says so. You took his grace, that should be all the punishment he needs. There’s no way in Hell that I’m letting you take him from me. You know what this is? This is her being jealous, that Cas doesn’t look at her the way he looks at me. That he puts me first. That whatever I feel about him, I know he feels the same way. And she wants that, and she’s a psycho bitch.’

There was so much conviction in Dean’s words, that for a moment Castiel fully believed him. He turned his head minutely, enough to be able to look up at the hunter in surprise. Dean was studiously avoiding his eye contact, and Castiel accepted almost instantly that if they were to look at each other, Dean wouldn’t be able to keep up the pretence. Still, it afforded Castiel the time to study his ex-lovers face up close, to look at the soft curves of his cheekbones and the dusting of freckles amongst his stubble, the long and delicate eyelashes and those soft, plump lips. If he was going to die, Dean’s face was the final memory he wanted to have, mingled in with that wonderful smell of his.

‘Angels aren’t capable of jealousy. And now that Castiel is human, their betrothal is void. Although that may not matter soon.’ Naomi responded. Castiel thought she was lying as much as Dean. Angels handled their jealousy differently, that was all. Most of the time, they competed for how much they were in God’s circle, boasting about how much their father favoured them, how much power their grace gave them as a result. But there was little point telling Dean, and he knew the hunter would just not care.

‘ _May_ not matter?’ He scoffed at her. Of course Dean would pick up on something else that Naomi had said.

‘Are you being honest with your intentions regarding Castiel?’

Castiel wondered what on earth Naomi was picking up from Dean, how much he was managing to convince her. It sounded as though she was relenting. He didn’t dare hope for a pardon, not yet.

‘No, he’s not. They were fighting as we came. We both heard them!’ Vibeke finally joined in the conversation herself, and Castiel watched as Dean winced, before his face became passive once more.

‘I love him, okay? And we weren’t fighting,’ Castiel watched as Dean rolled his eyes, unable to believe what he’d just heard. Dean had finally said it, but not to him. Castiel wanted to hear it again, wanted to believe that it could be true, that it wasn’t just a result of Dean’s prejudice against his former kind. ‘We were making up. Kinda funny how you just appeared now, when we were getting back on track, time limits be damned. What is it, if you can’t have him, no one can?’

And then Dean’s hand was on the back of his head, massaging his scalp through the dark brown hair, and Castiel felt himself shaking with emotion. Were they making up? Was he reading Dean completely wrongly?

‘Vibeke … is this true?’ This time, Naomi sounded unsure, and Castiel knew that Dean had convinced her somehow. Was she reacting to the word love as well? Did she realised how monumental it was for Dean to even say that word? For the first time, Castiel saw himself surviving this, and he knew he would never be able to repay Dean.

‘Of course it’s not true. It’s typical of a human to suspect something like that. I am merely seeing my job through, Naomi.’ Vibeke had none of Dean’s finesse, Castiel thought, and her voice seemed saturated with poorly veiled rage.

There was a silence that followed, and Castiel knew that Naomi was trying to make her decision. Dean tightened his hold on Castiel, so that his entire body felt constricted, and he could barely breathe. He could no longer see Dean’s face, just the tanned, stubbled skin of his neck. That spot he’d always liked Castiel kissing, just below his ear, just beyond his jawline. He missed those moments with Dean so much, the ones where they just seemed to understand each other on a level that went beyond words.

‘Vibeke, we will discuss your behaviour in due course,’ Naomi finally broke the silence, and Castiel knew there was no arguing with whatever decision she made. ‘Maybe your promotion was too advanced for your skill level. As for you, Castiel, I’m choosing to believe your human. You may live, but you cannot have your grace back, that punishment is still in effect.’

Castiel’s entire body seemed to loosen at her words. It had worked, Dean had saved him, and he owed him everything. Not having his grace back meant next to nothing, he was being given the chance to try to win Dean again. He shifted in Dean’s arms, as much as the hunter would allow him to, and he peeked at Naomi.

‘Thank you.’ He hoped his tone was sincere, and not overly-excitable. Naomi regarded him carefully, as though she could see through him.

‘Don’t waste your opportunity, Castiel.’

‘Hey, one more thing!’ Dean said loudly, making Castiel jump. ‘Cas and me, we’re not always going to see eye-to-eye. It happens. But I am not spending the rest of my life with angel dickbags breathing down my neck making sure that we have a relationship you agree with. We can’t live with you holding a fucking sword over our heads, ready to drop it because one of us messed up. Heaven stops interfering, right?’

Naomi seemed to consider this for a moment, and Castiel hoped that she wasn’t going to take her decision back based on his rudeness. But then she nodded curtly, and Castiel was grateful for her mercy.

‘Agreed. As far as your relationship is concerned, there will be no interference from us. As to the state of Castiel’s grace, we will be monitoring him.’  
Castiel couldn’t believe she would reconsider his grace as well. This time, when he spoke, he couldn’t hide any emotion, and he sounded far too excited.

‘That also seems fair. Thank you, Naomi.’

‘Naomi, please reconsider, what they’ve done-‘ Vibeke whined. Castiel couldn’t even look at her, instead he watched as Naomi scowled at her, clearly agitated with the other angel. Castiel felt sorry for Naomi, for being dragged into this mess.

‘Vibeke, return to Heaven. Now. I need to give you an appraisal.’

Castiel couldn’t help but look at Vibeke, as Dean pulled him closer. Vibeke’s face was etched with anger, and Castiel saw the decision to attack form in her eyes before she moved. She had barely taken a few steps towards them when she and Naomi suddenly disappeared, and Castiel felt shaken. If Naomi hadn’t intervened, would Vibeke really have killed him? Was Dean correct with that guess?

And slowly, Castiel noticed that he and Dean were still standing together, wrapped up in each other, as though neither would let the other go even without the threat of the angels. There was no need for them to be embracing so ferociously, and yet Castiel didn’t want to let Dean go, didn’t want to face to reality of their situation. He wanted to continue pretending, but he knew that it would never last.

‘Are they gone?’ He finally asked. Dean leaned his head against Castiel’s.

‘Yeah. Sure looks like it. Naomi’s probably cutting Vibeke a new one in Heaven right now.’

Castiel couldn’t believe how easily Dean was responding, but he didn’t want to read too much into what it meant, in case he got his hopes up too much. It was enough that Dean had taken away the threat of his demise. He forced himself to stay neutral over the whole debacle.

‘Well, thank you, Dean. You were … you did well. Thank you for lying so convincingly.’

Instead of blowing off the thank you as Castiel was expecting, Dean pulled his head back, holding tightly and pulling slightly on Castiel’s hair. The ex-angel reluctantly looked into Dean’s eyes, and the hunter finally spoke again.

‘Where was I lying?’

Castiel frowned. Wasn’t Dean lying? If Dean was telling the truth, then that meant … was it possible? Dean pushed on.

‘Why would you think I was lying?’

Castiel licked his lips, unsure as to how to proceed. Dean wanted to get back together? Dean really loved him? The hunter’s eyes flicked down, watching Castiel lick his lips, and suddenly the ex-angel felt indecent, like he was making an advance at Dean that he hadn’t been aware of. He babbled a response.

‘You … you weren’t?’

Dean maintained eye contact as he shook his head slowly, allowing it to all sink in. Everything Dean had said about the break up being a blip, about them getting back together, and being in love with Castiel … it was all true?

‘Meant every word, Cas. But we still have some issues to sort through before I’m comfortable with us again, okay?’

There was no room for relief, Castiel was in shock. Dean loved him. Even after everything, Dean loved him. Castiel would give him the world.

‘Anything, Dean.’

Dean winced again, but forced himself to focus. Castiel was in awe of how much his lover - not his ex-lover, his current lover - could keep his mind on track. Castiel’s mind was half-emerged in the fact that they were still pressed so tightly together.

‘Uh-huh. It was one at a time.’

Castiel wasn’t following Dean’s way of thinking.

‘Our issues?’

‘Our dates. I said one at a time, Cas. You were putting so much pressure on me to go out with you, and I’d okayed that even though I was totally freaked out and not really sure what we were even talking about, and you wanted definite answers to questions I wasn’t ready to think about. I panicked, but I thought that was a pretty good answer, you know? I thought it would take the pressure off. I thought you understood what I meant.’

‘I do, Dean. One date.’ Castiel felt puzzled. What else could one date possibly have meant?

‘Yeah, Cas. I guaranteed you one date. I didn’t say I wouldn’t consider any more. It was a see-how-we-go-thing, a we-could-be-friends-if-it-doesn’t-work-out thing. You know, if you didn’t get it, you could’ve asked me to explain it better.’

Castiel felt himself frowning, as he tried to follow Dean’s logic, an uncomfortable weight settling in his stomach. Had he gotten everything so wrong? Could they have avoided a lot of this mess if Castiel had just realised that Dean didn’t mean one date only? He felt sick.

‘Look, Cas, what if I’d given you a number? What if I’d said ten dates? And then we get to number ten and we both wanted more, would you do the same thing? Or what if I said five dates, and we both realised on date number two that it just wasn’t going to work out? Would you have made me go through with the rest of them? Cas, I gave the best answer I could, okay? And like you said, no answer was ever going to be good enough. I did my best.’

He felt very sick. And yet Dean didn’t release him, didn’t try to move away. Whatever Dean’s point was, there was more than he was saying, more than Castiel could acknowledge through the sheer feeling of being so overwhelmed.

‘I never thought of it like that. I guess I got caught up in the idea that I might have you. When did … when did you know you wanted more than the first date?’  
Dean’s eyes flicked down again, as though he didn’t want to let Castiel in to whatever private thought he was having. Castiel assumed that meant he was on the right lines. The nauseated feeling increased in his stomach. How long had he been taking action to try and win Dean when the hunter was already there, wanting him too? When Dean looked back up into his eyes, his own mossy green ones seemed glazed over with lust.

‘When we were making out in the Impala, that first time. It just felt like we worked, you know? Do you remember what I said to you then?’

Dean’s voice croaked, and Castiel tried to remember what Dean had said. He felt slightly panicked when he realised his memory wasn’t as perfectly in tact as it used to   
be. Was that a human thing, to only remember specific parts of a day rather than the exact minutae? He could remember Dean, propped above him, half naked, Castiel’s fingers tracing along his stomach to his waistband. What had Dean said?

‘All in good time?’

Dean looked back at him with a tired expression, and Castiel knew he had guessed incorrectly. But Dean seemed patient when he spoke again, like he was realising more about Castiel than before, and things he had previously taken for granted he was reconsidering. Maybe they were closer to being on the same page.

‘I said we had all the time in the world. That you don’t agree to going out with your best friend without knowing it’s probably going to be long term. Cas, I said that on our first date. And when have I ever gone back on that, or said I didn’t want anything?’

Castiel strained for the memory. Dean had said that, hadn’t he? And later at the bar, he’d put Castiel’s emotions before the girls who had been trying to work them for a free drink. Castiel felt terrible. He’d never really trusted Dean to feel anything back, never considered that the hunter would ever be capable of loving him on his own terms. Dean’s next words seemed to highlight that thought.

‘I still want you, Cas. I didn’t break up with you because I didn’t want you. I was hurt. I mean, we’d just had a great time together, and all this crap came out.’

‘You really want to get back together?’ Castiel could never have hoped for this. Yes, he’d wanted it, wanted Dean back, but he’d never taken the time to consider how Dean felt. He promised himself that he’d make the effort from then on to consider Dean first, to try not to act on his own impulses, as difficult as that would be. Dean once again flicked his gaze down before returning his attention to Castiel’s eyes.

‘Cas, you suck at reading signals.’

‘Is that one of our issues?’ Castiel knew it was, he’d just had that epiphany, but he wondered whether Dean would acknowledge it. The hunter groaned, resting his forehead against Castiel’s, his eyes fully closed.

‘Sometimes,’ Dean’s answer seemed resigned. Castiel tried to verbalise how lost he felt when trying to interpret Dean’s intentions, though he knew he was probably still wide off the mark.

‘I can’t tell what you’re thinking right now.’

Dean swallowed so loudly that Castiel could hear it.

‘You know how you find out, Cas?’ Dean raised the hand not gripping the back of Castiel’s neck, and caressed his face gently, holding it in place. Castiel felt his eyelids flutter involuntarily. ‘You ask me. Because if you haven’t noticed already, I’ve given you everything you’ve asked for. I’ll give you anything I can, Cas.’

Castiel was hard pressed to find the words to encapsulate how much it meant to hear Dean say something like that. And he presumed it was true, when Castiel didn’t want to have sex, Dean had traced his fingers across the then-angel’s back. When Castiel had bought all the items from Amsterdam, Dean had okayed using almost all of it. Dean had been showing his feelings all along, hadn’t he? Subtly, yes, so discreetly that Castiel had been obtuse to it all, but in hindsight - or maybe with his recently acquired human rationalisation - it seemed so clear that Dean was trying to express himself with his limited emotional vocabulary.

‘I want to give you what you want too, Dean.’ It seemed the right thing to say in the moment. Dean’s eyes flicked back open, mossy green and intense and almost seething with an emotion that hit Castiel in the solar plexus.

‘Does that mean you’ll stop calling things perfect? Like me, and our relationship? I can’t live up to perfect, Cas.’

Did Castiel do that very much? He supposed this was part of the reason why Dean was saying he felt pressurised. He’d forgotten how little Dean thought of himself, and chose to boost his ego, hoping it would have the desired effect.

‘You’re perfect to me.’

Dean groaned again.

‘Cas, it’s just more pressure.’

Castiel felt pleased that he’d managed to understand Dean’s way of thinking, and decided to make an effort in future to hold back on whatever would make the hunter feel pressured. For now, he wanted to embrace the conversation, since Dean was being so unusually open.

‘Sorry. What else, Dean?’

He looked away again, and Castiel focused on those long, delicate eyelashes. Dean shifted his weight, and Castiel presumed it was a topic that the hunter would find difficult to broach. He waited patiently, revelling in the smell of his boyfriend. He got to call Dean that again. His boyfriend.

‘Just … your fantasy, the one we were married in? Is that what you want? You want to be married in some suburban place with a plastic version of me?’

Castiel felt his heart jolt. Dean was being too hard on himself, as usual, Castiel could tell that much. He thought hard to come up with some explanation for the way he felt in that other world, which seemed so synthetic now. He knew enough that the topics they were covering were going to bring them all the things he had loved best in that world. Except maybe the picture of them that he wished could have materialised in his pocket the way he’d expected. Or yes, admittedly, his finger felt odd without his wedding band.

‘It was a happy version of you. And I can take or leave being married. What I liked most in there was how we were together. I understood you, you knew me, it was … it was …’

Castiel faltered. The last thing he wanted to was describe it as perfect, and yet their connection had felt that way. At least, until the real Dean - his Dean - made an appearance, and Castiel was forced to consider the reality of his situation.

‘It was how you wanted us to be?’

Dean supplied, and Castiel latched on gratefully.

‘Yes! I know you’re still going to hunt, and you still want to live in the bunker, but all that was just details. It was how we were that mattered.’

And then Dean was leaning closer, kissing Castiel slowly, with none of the fury of the kiss that had saved Castiel, but a low burning heat was present nonetheless. The ex-angel sank into those lips that knew him so well, that gave everything but still seemed satisfied with their connection. And then Dean was talking into Castiel’s mouth in that way he did sometimes, and Castiel felt complete, because Dean was clearly feeling more comfortable in his own skin.

‘We want the same things, Cas,’ he nibbled on Castiel’s lower lip, sending electricity straight to Castiel’s penis. Which was probably Dean’s intention. ‘The big things, anyway.’

It took Castiel a couple of seconds to release what Dean meant. He wanted their almost telepathic communication back too? Castiel decided, if this was the time to declare what it was they wanted, he would make himself stand up to Dean and ask for those things that played on his mind the most. Without putting pressure on the hunter. After all, Dean had said to ask, and that’s all Castiel was doing.

‘There are other things I want, Dean,’ his voice betrayed his nerves.

‘Mmmmm.’ Dean was preoccupied with his mouth. Castiel fought hard to stay focused, knowing this was a potentially explosive subject to approach.

‘I don’t always want to have sex with you. Sometimes I just want to know you love me. I- you did say that, didn’t you? That you love me?’

That made Dean pull away, and look into his eyes again. His expression was pinched, as though he was fighting a grimace, but otherwise his face was blank, and Castiel had no idea whether he had overstepped the mark. But Dean had to know he’d been dying to hear those words, dying for Dean to mean them.

Dean’s eyes flicked quickly back and forth between Castiel’s own, as though he was expecting a trick. Was he waiting for Castiel to dismiss the request? Because Castiel wasn’t confident that he could accomplish that.

‘Yes, Cas,’ he finally spoke, his voice low, and slow, like every word carried a huge emotion. Castiel understood that for Dean, it did. It probably resonated deep within the hunter, and vocalising the emotion was the problem. But he did it anyway, for Castiel. ‘I love you.’

And Castiel knew he shouldn’t make a huge deal over the confession, but it was hard to be restrained. Dean loved him! Really loved him, despite everything that had gone wrong between them. He clung tighter to the broad-shouldered man in front of him, burying his head in the curve of Dean’s neck and inhaling slowly. That leather-cinnamon-apple-and-earth smell belonged to the man he loved, who loved him back. Dean’s fingers knotted further into his hair, as Castiel told him what he already knew.

‘I love you too, Dean.’

‘I know.’ Dean sounded choked up, and Castiel anticipated the moment that Dean reminded him not to place pressure on him. ‘Cas-‘

‘I know. But once in a while will be good enough.’ Castiel cut him off. He knew Dean would probably say something about how Castiel’s once in a while may be more frequent than he could handle, but Castiel was learning now. He could remember the fantasy Dean saying it to him over and over, like a throwaway comment humans make about the weather. The way Dean had just said it, in that moment of privacy, with all the emphasis on emotion behind it? Yes, hearing it infrequently would be good, because it would be sincere, and heartfelt. Castiel was starting to question whether it was possible that Dean could love him more fervently than he did the hunter.

‘What’s up, bitches?’

Charlie had the worst timing ever, in Castiel’s opinion. But he couldn’t say anything, because Dean was fond of her, and he knew he had to make the effort with her. He stayed quiet, hoping she would leave them alone at least for a while. He’d make amends with her later, when he and Dean were done making up themselves.

‘Charlie,’ Dean’s voice was dangerously low and terse, and Castiel wondered if he too wished, at least for the time being, that Charlie wasn’t around to mess up their reunion.

‘Want some coffee?’ Charlie’s voice was overly bright. Castiel wondered if Dean too could see that her need for coffee was a guise for getting more information about the state of their relationship. Charlie didn’t leave it long to ask after it, at any rate. ‘Hey, so you guys are all made up now, huh? Everything cool between you?’

Dean didn’t answer her as Castiel had been expecting. He knew that out of his range of sight, Dean was probably communicating silently with Charlie. Castiel nearly jumped as Dean nuzzled closer, his lips caressing the ex-angel’s ear as he whispered.

‘Wanna go to our room?’

Castiel didn’t miss that Dean had called it “our” room and not “my” room. That meant more than Castiel was capable of making tangible with words. All he could do was nod. Dean immediately let go of his head, one hand stroking down Castiel’s shoulder, and then his arm, until he reached his fingers. He slotted them easily into his own, and began to walk across the kitchen, Castiel following willingly, knowing that their room would probably mean some very loud, very enthusiastic sex. He felt giddy as he tried to keep pace with Dean, his legs shaking with anticipation. This was how the hunter communicated best.

‘Oh, come on guys, I wanna talk. It’s not easy being the fifth wheel, you know.’

Castiel had never considered that Charlie might have felt lonely being around them, even with Dean not talking to him. Maybe Dean had always suspected it and that was why he was more tolerable of her being around them? Castiel felt as though he was learning a lot, being human.

‘So go pick up some chick,’ Dean shrugged carelessly, tugging at Castiel’s hand. The ex-angel knew he wasn’t mad at Charlie. He must have just been preoccupied.

‘Can I come with you guys?’

‘No!’

Castiel was surprised at his own vehemence, which was echoed in Dean’s tone. It wasn’t that he disliked Charlie, not at that point, but couldn’t she see how important it was that they spent some time together? Dean continued to wordlessly insist on pulling Castiel out of the door, squeezing his fingers once more. This time, Castiel squeezed back tentatively, wondering if Dean were trying to communicate something by doing so. All thoughts of Charlie were dismissed as the two of them walked down the hallway to their room, and instead Castiel became preoccupied with what Dean was thinking. Anticipation of what could happen made his chest buzz, constricted his breathing. Would the hunter kiss him again the way he had in that fantasy world? Or would he let loose further, and give Castiel some of the most mind-blowing sex he’d ever experienced? Whatever Castiel had said a moment before didn’t negate the fact that he wanted Dean to touch him, to be physical with him. He needed to know that this was definitely real.

Castiel followed Dean into the room, noticing that someone had cleared away the beeping machine from the side of the bed. He squeezed Dean’s fingers gently, hoping that whatever the hunter had been indicating by doing so to him was what he was communicating back, or attempting to, at least. Dean didn’t respond, and when Castiel looked at him, his expression was akin to shell-shock. Castiel instantly wanted to know what was making Dean react so badly, and then he talked himself into asking. Dean had said it was okay, that it was what he wanted. Castiel was just going to have to figure out the fine line of asking his boyfriend questions and not being too demanding.

‘Dean?’ Castiel was still hesitant. Dean would answer, wouldn’t he? ‘What’re you thinking about right now?’

Dean exhaled slowly through his mouth, but responded fairly normally, all things considered.

‘I was thinking that every now and then, it surprises me, the way Becky’s changed. I don’t mean the Becky we first saw at her place, I mean the Becky that’s been around since she and Sam started going out. I don’t know, maybe she’s supposed to be with Sam.’

Castiel smiled as Dean turned to look at him. He was complimenting Becky? The real Becky, the one whose soul was pure sunshine, who Castiel had quickly become friends with? Maybe Castiel needed to make his lover worry more often. Dean looked at the bed, and then back to Castiel.

‘So, how’s being human?’ He sounded confident, and Castiel envied that about him. He answered as honestly as he could, though he hadn’t given much thought to being human. Maybe it was because the Winchesters - and their friends - had worked for so long to make Castiel adjust to the human way of life that meant some of it came easily. Or maybe it was because Castiel’s bloody-minded need for Dean had just made the arbitrary trials of human life seem that much less important. After all, Dean was everything.

‘Filthy. And slow. And I’m finding that I can’t remember large patches of the days like I used to. I could remember everything, Dean, and now it’s a strain,’ he realised he sounded petulant, and tried to correct his tone. After all, his misery was over losing time with Dean, not over being human. The irony of losing his memory wasn’t lost on Castiel. ‘But I’ll learn to cope.’

‘Don’t be a martyr, Cas. It’s a big change.’

Castiel nodded in agreement.

‘It is, and I’m not pretending it’s not hard, but the pay-off is worth it.’

Dean’s face moved quickly, from surprise to apprehension to something a little more animalistic. Castiel recognised the expression as one that Dean took on just before kissing him roughly. Castiel was desperate for him to do it, to approach and dominate the ex-angel. He wanted their physical connection more than ever before, to the point that he was debating approaching the hunter himself, reaching through that short inch of height difference to let Dean know exactly what he wanted.

‘Cas? I know you don’t want to have sex, but um-‘

‘That’s not what I said,’ Castiel interrupted hastily, eager for whatever Dean was about to suggest. ‘I like sex Dean. Or at least, I’ve enjoyed it with you. I just don’t want our relationship to be entirely about sex, that’s all.’

‘Cas, it’s never been about just sex.’

Castiel heard the sincerity in Dean’s tone. How long had he missed that fact? It was slowly becoming obvious that sex was just the easiest way Dean knew to express the feelings that must have been alien to him. He looked into Castiel’s eyes, his own seemingly saturated with lust, and Castiel found himself wondering how on earth Dean could be holding back. His self-control was phenomenal, but Castiel was grateful for it. It had been too long since he had been able to look in Dean’s eyes like this, where all time stood still and the world just stopped existing and the only thing that mattered was them.

And then Dean was closing the short distance between them, bending Castiel’s head back as gently as he could manage with one hand so he had easy access to Castiel’s mouth, and the other hand wrapping around Castiel’s waist. His breath traced Castiel’s face, and it made the ex-angel feel emboldened. Dean had said he could ask for anything, and the hunter would do his best to give him whatever he wanted, hadn’t he? As Dean bent closer, he forced the question out.

‘Dean?’

Dean paused, not quite touching, but close enough that Castiel felt the sensation of his skin anyway. His eyes were still so intense, and Castiel had to force the words out.

‘Could you, um, could you kiss me like you drink a beer?’

Dean raised his head slightly, and Castiel couldn’t feel the hunter’s skin nearly brushing against his own anymore. Clearly, he was taken aback by the request.

‘How do you mean?’

Castiel felt his face burning, but tried to explain what he meant. It seemed so obvious to Castiel what he meant, but there was a chance that Dean wasn’t even aware of what he did.

‘When you’re drinking out of a beer bottle, you do it a certain way, and I just, I always wondered … what it felt like.’

His entire face like it was red hot.

‘I don’t know what you mean, Cas.’

It was agony trying to get this across. Castiel wished he had never brought it up.

‘Just pretend I’m a bottle of beer and you’re going to drink me.’

Dean’s fingers twitched, and then he was pressing closer again, his mouth pressing gently against Castiel’s, his tongue flicking in between Castiel’s lips and the ex-angel sighed happily as their kiss quickly progressed, and it was everything Castiel had imagined it would be, everything he had been missing about Dean. Their tongues slid together, moving in a way that was familiar and yet tainted with nostalgia. Dean tasted of bacon and black coffee, and Castiel couldn’t think of a better flavour for anything at that moment. Their bodies seemed to mould together, and Castiel could feel Dean’s penis, hard and demanding, restrained by his jeans, pressing against Castiel’s inner thighs. He was straining against the pants he was wearing too, his legs shaking as his hands caressed Dean’s firm chest, their mouths working together, moving on from Castiel’s request until he was sure Dean was simulating sex with his mouth.

And then Dean was pulling out of the kiss, even as Castiel fought to keep it going. He knew Dean would probably want to kiss his neck, and normally he loved that but right then, as they were making up, Castiel wanted more mouth-on-mouth action.

‘Cas? We’re going to have make up sex, right?’

Dean had whispered it, and it sent a shiver up Castiel’s spine. Had Dean not realised what he was doing with Castiel’s mouth?

‘Think we just did.’

Dean smiled slowly, lazily, his gaze dropping to Castiel’s neck, and the ex-angel anticipated Dean’s next moves.

‘We’ve barely started.’

He brushed his lips slowly down Castiel’s neck, and Castiel found himself responding without thinking, arching his neck to allow Dean more room to move, exposing more skin to his lover, feeling Dean’s hands slid along his body until his fingers dug into Castiel’s hips, pulling him closer. Castiel closed his eyes, loving the feel of Dean’s mouth on him, and the feeling that Dean wanted him, was besotted with him.

‘You know what?’ Castiel whispered as Dean sucked a little on his neck, grazing the skin with his teeth. He felt the sudden need to show Dean that he did pay attention, that he did recognise certain traits of the hunter’s. ‘You say a lot with your kisses.’

‘Mmmm.’

Castiel wasn’t sure if Dean was agreeing with him, or if he was vocalising how much he was enjoying working Castiel’s neck, but he pressed on like they were having a conversation. He could see the rest of the day going that way; the slow, tantalising kisses punctuated with their conversation as they found their rhythm again. He couldn’t wait.

‘You do. It’s like an entire language. It’s why I left the fantasy. That kiss was …’

Dean left his neck alone, and Castiel could feel his eyes burning into him. He had no idea how to describe it, but he could tell Dean wasn’t going to speak, not straight away. Castiel cut to the chase, and explained why he left the fantasy land and came back to reality.

‘As pleasant as the marriage was, Dean, it was nothing like that. And then things seemed to fall apart once you’d gone. I told him about that kiss and he wasn’t- he didn’t … he called me a slut.’

Castiel knew that if he reflected on it properly, he’d realise some link between what that kiss had done to him and the way fantasy Dean had suddenly turned on him that went beyond fantasy Dean’s jealousy. It was potentially his own conscious giving him more reason to come back, he considered.

Dean - the real Dean - on the other hand, seemed baffled by Castiel’s confession.

‘You’re not a slut, Cas.’ His voice was tender, even as he began kissing Castiel’s neck again, his fingers working on the hem of his shirt. Castiel shook as Dean’s fingertips grazed the skin of his stomach.

‘Okay, my powers would be great right now, to just zap off our clothes and get in the bed.’ He whispered wistfully. Dean laughed onto his neck, sending vibrations all over Castiel’s skin.

‘I’m so glad you can’t cheat any more,’ Dean purred, and stopped kissing his neck to pull Castiel’s shirt off. Castiel thought for a moment that he was referring once more to the kiss with Meg, but then realised that Dean was referring to his status as an angel. ‘Let’s see how long you last without your powers.’

Then Dean was pushing him onto the bed, moving faster than Castiel could anticipate, taking hold of Castiel’s bare feet and pulling at the pyjama pants, leaving Castiel naked and aching for Dean on the comforter. He watched as the hunter pulled his own clothes off as quickly as he could, his fingers fumbling on his heavy work boots, and then he was sliding his way over Castiel’s body, lowering himself down so their skin made contact. Castiel couldn’t help his reactions, which were to shiver once again, and groan loudly. He needed Dean.

‘Dean?’ He whispered, as Dean got that animalistic gleam in his eye once more.

‘Mmmmm.’ Dean was clearly preoccupied with Castiel’s body. His gaze travelled across the skin of Castiel’s neck predatorily.

‘I can ask for anything, right?’

He wasn’t sure why he was asking, except that he knew Dean would be harder to convince of this matter than he was the kiss request. He had reacted fairly badly the last time this topic had come up after all, and they were completely in “the moment” that time.

‘Mmmmm, but please ask for an orgasm right now, because I’m already pretty close.’

Castiel felt Dean move his body, making their groins rub against each other, and he felt his eyes roll back in his head. Dean knew exactly what buttons to push, and Castiel had to force himself to focus once more.

‘Can I top? You always do. I know we’ve tried before, and last time you struggled, but in that fantasy, I did top, and we both liked it, and I think you’d like it with me, at least.’

He spoke fast, hoping it would somehow soften the request, but Dean still groaned, and stopped trying to manipulate his body, nuzzling his head into Castiel’s collarbone instead.

‘Please, Cas, not now.’

‘Why not now?’ Castiel persisted, the words jumping from him before he could stop them, before he could consider the fact that this was technically him heaping more pressure on Dean. He rationalised it by considering it them communicating further, removing more elements of confusion between them. Dean had wanted more communication, hadn’t he? ‘I’ve tried to understand where you’re coming from on this Dean, but I can’t. I’m your first boyfriend, but I’m not the first guy you’ve been with?’

‘You’re killing the _we just made up, lets have crazy sex _mood.’ Dean ground out into his chest. Castiel heard the warning tone, and tried to rephrase it so that Dean knew it wasn’t a pressurised situation. It was him asking. Dean only had to say yes or no, that was all.__

__‘I’m not trying to do that, and I don’t want to fall out already, I just want to understand.’_ _

__Dean’s response was to continue kissing his neck, letting his stubble scratch along the sensitive skin there. Castiel knew exactly what Dean was up to, and he fought to stay in the moment, reverting back to a previous subject._ _

__‘Okay, so these kisses are the I’m-avoiding-the-topic variety,’ he said in a teasing tone. Dean’s response was to nip the part of his neck that had been getting the most attention. Castiel knew he was close to the mark, and continued teasing Dean, glad they were back on track. ‘So I have to work out why you’re avoiding it. And don’t bite me just because I got it right. It’s not linked to your father, is it?’_ _

__Dean immediately shifted off of Castiel, pulling his clothes back on at the foot of the bed as reason caught up with Castiel. He’d once again gone too far. Was it linked to John? Had he been inappropriate with Dean in ways that Dean had never admitted to before? It would certainly explain his need to hero worship the father who put so much upon him. Castiel knew fear did strange things to humans, his brothers and sisters certainly used that a lot to get what they wanted._ _

__‘Dean?’ He was hoping Dean would stop putting his clothes back on. They were getting back on track, how could Castiel have gotten it so wrong?_ _

__‘I don’t want to talk about it.’ Dean’s tone was sulky, rather than angry. Castiel knew he needed to backtrack._ _

__‘Did he get to Sam too?’_ _

__It slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. But really, it made sense. John had deprived and abused both boys in so many ways, it wasn’t a huge stretch to think he would keep them both in line with sexual dominance. It was an animalistic thing. He wanted to be there for Dean if it was the case, however the hunter would let that happen._ _

__‘No. My dad’s got nothing to do with it. Almost nothing.’_ _

__Dean’s tone was hard to read this time, as he pulled his jeans back on. He sat back on the bed, and Castiel scrambled up, over to his lover, determined to make things better somehow. Dean passed him the plaid pants and sweater, and Castiel understood that despite the fact they were both more than ready physically for sex, it wasn’t going to happen._ _

__‘Please, tell me. It’s what I’m here for, right?’ Castiel couldn’t help but push, trying to crack Dean open. Hadn’t they just agreed that it wasn’t going to be this hard, ever again? He made a show of putting his clothes back on, letting Dean know that he was doing as the hunter wanted so it was only fair for Dean to talk. The hunter sighed heavily, but he did comply._ _

__‘Look, I’ve done a lot of things I’m not proud of, Cas. But some things I just had to do. Like earning the money to help Sam get through Stanford. He never asked where the money came from, I think he thought it was a grant, maybe. But I could only get so many fake credit cards, lose so many poker games, behind Dad’s back anyway. It was easy money, you know?’_ _

__Castiel was listening hard. From what he could gather, Dean was saying that their father’s overbearing nature had led to him going behind John’s back in order to give Sam what he wanted, even at the cost of himself. That was so Dean, to put someone else before himself, to consider his own needs last. He wished he’d been assigned Dean earlier, to save him from this kind of fate. Dean wasn’t done talking, however. It was as though the floodgates had been opened._ _

__‘Women don’t really pay for sex, surprisingly. Or maybe I needed to go to an agency and end up on some Fed book somewhere and ruin the real job. Whatever. I just wanted to help Sammy, even when he ditched us, when he ditched me. He has no idea, and you can’t tell him, okay? But when someone’s paying you for sex, you don’t call the shots so …’_ _

__Dean apparently had no intention of finishing that sentence. But Castiel understood, and he knew that Dean was saying that there was too strong an association for him to be able to bend to that whim, at least for the time being. Castiel watched as Dean worked his knuckles into the muscles of his legs, and found himself slipping behind Dean, caressing his shoulders gently, trying to somehow fix the damage he’d once again caused._ _

__‘I’m sorry, Dean.’_ _

__‘Uh-huh.’ Dean still sounded annoyed. But he wasn’t walking away, and Castiel decided to hold onto that fact. This was still salvageable. They were still salvageable.  
‘If I still had my powers, I’d take all those memo-‘_ _

__‘Don’t even go there. Learn from this, Cas.’ Dean’s tone was final. Castiel couldn’t understand why Dean would want to hold on to the bad memories, but maybe it was a human thing to only remember certain parts of your life? So maybe Dean’s response was entirely human, to want to cling on to whatever memories he could. After all, Castiel wanted to keep hold of every memory of Dean._ _

__‘I just want to look after you, Dean.’ He said quietly, and kissed the back of Dean’s head, through his hair. It was like a magic touch, Because Dean leaned back immediately, letting Castiel continue kissing him gently, his head burrowed in Castiel’s chest as the ex-angel lavished attention on him. It felt right, to remind Dean that Castiel ultimately just wanted the intimacy with him. Even if his penis was still throbbing with need._ _

__‘You’re looking after me right now,’ Dean’s voice sounded choked with emotion. Castiel knew to tread carefully. He nodded, and tried again, tentatively. Maybe he was thinking with his penis, as Dean would put it._ _

__‘It can be a litmus test for us, maybe? When you really trust me again, when you’re ready to put it all behind you, then you’d let me try?’_ _

__Dean looked down at his own hands as he considered the question. Castiel knew he might not want to, but the fact that Dean was taking the time to at least think about it was a huge step forward. Whatever the response might be, Castiel knew that he would have to accept it, and even if the answer wasn’t no, he would still have to tread lightly, and accommodate for what Dean was comfortable with._ _

__Dean’s gaze flicked back to Castiel’s, and his mossy green eyes seemed to stretch on forever. Castiel felt like he was falling down a tunnel just looking into them._ _

__‘Yes.’_ _

__He didn’t sound confident, and Castiel knew the yes was loaded with conditions. But ultimately, it wasn’t about Dean agreeing to let him top, it was about the fact that Dean cared for him enough to let him try. Castiel tried to smile at him, before he bent down and kissed his boyfriend on the forehead again, trying to let him know without wasting the words just how much he loved him._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! Sorry it's been so long coming, it's one of my longest chapters to date!


	25. Chapter 25

Castiel felt awful for pressing Dean past the point he could tolerate. As a result, he found himself kissing the hunter’s face over and over, trying to claw back the happy feeling they had shared at reuniting. Dean didn’t tell him to back off, or thank him, or even say anything. He laid there, letting Castiel kiss him repetitively, and the only indication that this was okay was the fact he was relaxing against the ex-angel, sinking into his arms. He tilted his chin up slightly, making it easier for Castiel to reach across his cheeks, his lips, the tip of his nose …

Castiel found himself apologising once again, trying to garner more understanding between them. If he just explained himself to Dean, then Dean could remind him where he had gone wrong and they could find their way back again. Castiel wasn’t ready to let their relationship falter, to miss out on the touch he still needed from his lover.

‘Dean, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to start another argument. I’ve missed you so much, and I guess I was so happy that you actually wanted me back that I didn’t even think-‘

Dean cut him off by leaning up, and pressing his mouth firmly against the angels. And Castiel was surprised, but grateful, glad that his explanations seemed to be having the desired effect. So they still had work to do to get their relationship back on track, that was fine. It meant that there was definitely a relationship there. Castiel hoped it meant that they would be stronger than ever. They had so much time to catch up on, so much left to say to each other, and it was hard to restrain himself.

‘Did I really lose three weeks of this?’

He could feel Dean’s breath caressing his face, and he knew this might be a sore subject. He hadn’t reacted too well to that other world when he’d walked in, after all. Castiel assumed that he wanted to forget about it, put it behind them.

‘Yuh-huh.’

‘But that doesn’t make any sense, I was only gone-‘

‘Cas, stop talking.’ Dean’s voice carried a groan, and he began kissing Castiel as he had when he invaded Castiel’s head, and saved him from himself, his lips pressing down roughly on Castiel’s mouth, tongue invading the space, licking along the roof of his mouth, filling Castiel up completely. The ex-angel understood that this was the way to get Dean to return to their previous amorous connection, to talk around their feelings, because Dean would want to do anything but. As soon as Dean took a much needed breath, Castiel sucked in some air quickly and carried on babbling, wondering what he could push Dean to next.

‘I’m just so happy we’re back together. I still can’t believe you said you love me.’

That was true, it still hadn’t sunk into Castiel’s psyche, that Dean could feel something as strong as love. That he could feel that way and _admit_ to it. Castiel wasn’t altogether sure he wasn’t still dreaming.

‘Do I have to make you stop talking?’ Dean trailed along Castiel’s nose with his own. Castiel felt a thrill of excitement in his stomach. It was working. He was dying to ask how Dean could possibly stop him talking, but he would rather the hunter showed him. He continued babbling.

‘I mean, I’ve hoped you would, so many times, and you never did, and now-‘

Dean began to move, pushing Castiel flat on his back on the bed, straddling him as he grabbed at Castiel’s shirt, roughly pulling it up from the hem and over Castiel’s head. He didn’t seem to notice that the ex-angel was helping, wriggling his arms out of the sleeves, lifting his head to allow the shirt to slide off fully. Then Dean was shoving the sweatshirt into Castiel’s mouth, which did take him by surprise. He wanted Dean in his mouth.

He attempted to take the shirt out, and Dean clamped a hand over the material in his mouth.

‘Don’t make me get the handcuffs.’

Castiel looked at Dean, trying to smirk around the shirt. Did the hunter really not realise who was in charge here? Did he think the handcuffs were a deterrent? They were a sign that Dean wanted what Castiel did right then. He deliberately reached for the shirt, intent on pulling it out just a little, but before he could even get hold of the material, Dean was snatching his wrists together, and rummaging in the tiny side table for the handcuffs. Castiel debated continuing to talk through the shirt, but decided to wait and see what would happen first.

Dean pushed him up the bed, closer to the headboard, oblivious to Castiel scooting along the sheets, making it easier for him. He didn’t notice that Castiel laid back against the pillows without encouragement. He missed the fact that Castiel didn’t resist his arms being raised, that the ex-angel was watching him intently, wondering what would happen when Dean was completely in charge. His entire being was tingling in anticipation. He was hoping Dean would turn his body into putty, and would be as rough as he just was with that kiss.

‘Can you breathe?’ Dean sounded hoarse. Castiel nodded, still playing the game, even if Dean wasn’t aware that there was a game to play. ‘Okay … okay … do you trust me, Cas?’

It was the most ridiculous question Dean could have asked. Because of course Castiel trusted him, was aching for Dean to start manipulating his body. He didn’t think Dean would take advantage of him. How could he, when Castiel had never been pushed to a limit with him? It was always Dean who was withdrawing, not him. There were still so many things that Castiel had purchased in Amsterdam that they had never even tried …

‘I’m not going to do anything weird, okay Cas?’

Cas couldn’t resist vocalising, through the cotton in his mouth, his thoughts on that. Of course Dean wasn’t going to do anything weird. Dean was safe. He was shaking his head at Castiel, a smile playing on his lips.

‘Nope, no talking. Just nod and shake your head, okay?’

Castiel nodded dutifully.

‘Good. Do you want me to suck your dick?’

Castiel frowned as he nodded. Dean definitely lacked imagination. Although the idea of Dean’s tongue lapping at him, putting as much of Castiel’s penis in his mouth as he physically could … it may have lacked imagination, but it was still going to be enjoyable. Dean continued in his usual blunt manner.

‘Want me to fuck you afterwards?’

Castiel nodded, but knew that would be it. Maybe Dean was too sexually charged to linger the way he might normally?

‘I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want me to do, Cas. Are you sure its fine?’

Castiel didn’t understand why Dean was asking. Of course it was fine, more than fine. It was necessary. Unless Dean was stalling out of nerves? The hunter reached out and rubbed his thumb and index finger along Castiel’s eyebrows.

‘It’s going to be okay, Cas,’ Dean mumbled as he began kissing Castiel’s neck again, completely unaware that Castiel knew it was going to be okay. He must have been trying to reassure himself, because he didn’t seem to notice Castiel arching his neck, his eyelids fluttering in satisfaction as Dean’s soft lips massaged his neck, his tongue twirling across Castiel’s skin, his teeth kneading a spot that shot a burning heat through the ex-angel. And then Dean was rolling his body as he worked his way down Castiel’s torso, and Castiel’s body was responding, seeking him out, trying to fan the fire inside him.

Dean’s hands slid down his body, and Castiel raised his hips, trying to encourage him to grab at them, to ease his pants off too. Dean missed the signal, as he was now concentrating on Castiel’s nipple, his teeth running over the nub as Castiel moaned with desire, knowing that Dean might do something more risqué if he made a noise. But all the hunter did was to suck on his nipple. Castiel began to feel frustrated, needing something more, and he tried to grab at Dean’s head, to make him do something else. The handcuffs barely allowed him to move an inch.

The clink of the handcuffs against the bedframe did have an effect on Dean at least, because he continued his path down Castiel’s body, his fingers sliding inside the elastic waistband and sliding the pyjama pants down agonisingly slowly. Castiel’s body had taken on a life of its own, bucking up like crazy, demanding Dean’s attention.

And then Dean was backing away, not touching him at all, and Castiel’s hips demanded him some more, his entire system going crazy without the attention. What was Dean up to? Castiel moaned in frustration as he managed to control his hips, and glared down at Dean, who smiled back lazily.

‘I told you before, Cas, all in good time.’

Castiel tried to tell him that “all in good time” wasn’t going to work right then, but Dean raised himself up, leaning on his straightened arms over Castiel so no part of them was touching, and his lazy grin turned playful.

‘Uh-uh, no talking. Like that time in the Impala. I’ll have to think of some kind of punishment if you keep trying to talk.’

Castiel shivered in anticipation. He wanted Dean’s touch, but he had the distinct feeling that Dean’s idea of punishment was to stop their relations.

When he failed to make another sound, Dean lowered himself again, slipping down and pressing his mouth against Castiel’s inner thigh, high up near his groin. Castiel closed his eyes and fought the urge to groan again, unsure if that kind of noise constituted talking. It had been when he’d given Dean oral sex in the Impala, with Sam on the back seat. His kisses right now were so good, Castiel knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He hated himself for that fact, he’d wanted to fall into bed with Dean and lose track of time, they were so invested in each other, and he was going to ruin that with his poor control over his vessel.

Dean seemed to know instinctively that Castiel was losing the fight, because he stopped teasing, and started licking around Castiel’s testicles, along his shaft, and sealing his mouth around Castiel’s head before he’d had time to process the move. His tongue was swirling constantly as his lips traced their way down, and Castiel’s body took on a life of its own again, bucking up into the hunter’s mouth demandingly. He stopped resisting the urge to grunt, and groan, and vocalise just how pleasurable it was to have Dean worship his body like this once again.

It still wasn’t enough, he wanted more. He tried to move his hands again, feeling frustrated when the cuffs barely gave. He didn’t know what the use of his hands would achieve, but he wanted something, a form of release, anything. Dean was agonising in his approach to this, even as he clasped at Castiel’s backside and used it as leverage, thrusting another inch of Castiel’s penis into his throat.

And then Castiel felt all the tension leaving him, in a hot gush of semen that threw itself straight down Dean’s throat. His body relaxed, sinking into the mattress, and he felt a flush of contentment. He could hear Dean gagging slightly, feel something trickling along the still-sensitive skin of his phallus, but it all seemed at a distance. His ears were full of cotton wall, his bones felt as though they had left his body, and yet Dean was still moving, his mouth easing off Castiel with a slight pop, his head coming to a rest on the ex-angel’s prominent hip bone, and his fingers sliding along Castiel’s moist penis, then down, over his testes, towards his anus …  
He didn’t have it in him to resist, or to work with Dean. His body was made of jello, and yielded easily to Dean as he inserted his fingers, sliding them in and out effortlessly, trying to widen the hole and make it easier to access Castiel’s body. Castiel lay there, ripples of his orgasm still surging through his system, aware that Dean was shifting again, moving back up his body, getting ready for the next part that he’d promised.

Castiel watched him as he crawled back up, his gaze tracing the contours of Castiel’s body, one hand guiding his own penis into Castiel. And then his focus changed, and Castiel found himself staring into those eyes he loved so much. Dean gazed back, clearly startled by whatever he was reading in Castiel’s expression. And yet there was a tenderness there too, as though Dean were acquiescing to something he had unknowingly asked for.

The rhythm changed, and Dean was agonisingly slow with each thrust, his eyes locked onto Castiel’s. It was as though his boyfriend was telling him something important, something he needed to hold on to, but Castiel wasn’t sure what it was. All he could really tell was that this kind of sex was rare, especially for Dean. It was full of the one thing Castiel wanted above all from their relationship, that level of intimacy that transcended words. For the first time in a while, it was like they were truly listening to each other. Castiel was dying to reach a hand up and cup Dean’s cheek, to reassure him of whatever it was that gave his lover’s tender gaze a haunted tint. He knew not to speak, not to chase Dean off, but to treasure him and keep this memory locked tight. This was special, whatever it was.

The moment broke only when Dean came, when he nearly collapsed onto Castiel’s prone form and used all of his energy to prop himself up by his elbows, his head tucked in as he suppressed a groan of his own. When the moment had gone, when he’d finally ridden out his own orgasm, he curled into Castiel’s chest, kissing him around his chest, his fingers swirling patterns onto Castiel’s sides.

The ex-angel had no words for what had just happened, but he knew that Dean would be feeling particularly vulnerable, and therefore unresponsive to any suggestion of their intensity. So as much as he may want to discuss what had happened, what had changed during this particular session of intercourse, he knew better than to do so. He decided to follow Dean’s lead, as much as he could.

It took forever for Dean to pull himself out of Castiel, to crawl up the bed a little and start freeing him from the bonds. Dean concentrated on the handcuffs, on working them so they released, and Castiel watched his face the entire time.

Dean started massaging Castiel’s wrists, his fingers firm but gentle, the rough skin of the pads of his thumbs warming the ex-angel’s skin. Castiel lowered his hand and pulled the shirt from his mouth, tossing it carelessly to one side and sliding his hand around Dean’s neck, pulling him closer for a kiss, the one soft, managing to linger and be quick at the same time.

And then Dean was curling up on his chest once more, their arms around each other, listening to the sound of their breathing. Castiel could feel Dean’s heart, thudding through his chest and creating a rhythm against his stomach, fast but steady, matching his own. Their legs were once again tangled together, and Dean was rubbing circles into Castiel’s rib cage.

Eventually, Castiel’s impatience got the better of him, and he couldn’t help but talk. He managed to force himself not to give a name to anything, in case it ruined the peace between them.

‘It was never like this,’ Castiel hoped Dean understood what he was referring to. Even when they had understood each other perfectly, they hadn’t felt so connected. And in retrospect, Castiel knew that the entire time they had been dating, they hadn’t managed to comprehend each other as well as they had during their making up sex session. He tried to fight the sense of guilt that realisation caused, because Dean wouldn’t appreciate that either.. ‘I know that’s my fault.’

Dean’s fingers stalled on his chest.

‘It’s not, Cas.’

‘If I had just left it to develop naturally, it might have become this intimate.’

From the way Dean held his breath, and his heart thudded harder, Castiel could tell that “intimate” was probably one of Dean’s least favourite words. He waited for the fall out, for Dean to pull away again. But it never came. If anything, he cuddled closer, like he was trying to salve Castiel’s concerns.

‘It really doesn’t matter, Cas. We’re here now. That’s the important bit.’

Castiel wanted to say something more, to tell Dean how much it mattered to him, but again, he was afraid of pressing all the wrong buttons. Instead, he began playing with the short bristles of Dean’s hair, humming that song he liked, the one he’d heard and couldn’t quite remember, that he’d hummed to Dean before. Surprisingly, Dean joined in, humming at a slightly higher key, and though it felt a little strange it was somehow comforting too. As their hums faded away, Castiel chuckled to himself, as a new thought occurred to him. Dean wouldn’t be too disparaging of the notion, hopefully.

‘Is that our song?’

He’d heard of the concept before, but maybe Dean thought it was too ridiculous for them to have a song that meant something.

‘No. Not that one. Maybe Smack My Bitch Up?’

Castiel stopped stroking his hair. He hadn’t heard of the song that Dean was referring to, if it wasn’t made up, but it sounded unpleasant. Maybe he had judged incorrectly.

‘You don’t have to mock me, Dean.’

His voice wobbled, as though he were about to cry. He wasn’t, but it felt like the moment was lost.

‘Sorry. That song just means a lot for other reasons, Cas.’

Castiel’s hand slipped down to Dean’s neck, where he began massaging the muscles there. Dean knew that song? That song meant something to him? Maybe he had heard it from the hunter once. It could be the entire reason he wanted it to be their song. Castiel was about to ask Dean more about it, when he began speaking instead, changing the subject. Castiel was surprised, but pleased, when Dean ventured something about their relationship.

‘So, remember when you first brought up the idea of you and me? You were talking about different relationships you’d noticed, right? Where do we fit in to your pattern?’

It wasn’t what Castiel had expected, but he was pleased nonetheless. At least, he was until he reflected and realised that they didn’t fit, not completely. He hadn’t mentioned those who have issues but fight for each other regardless, those who expressed their feelings physically and verbally in equal measure. It seemed like a test, almost, but Castiel was determined not to fail it.

‘I guess we don’t. I couldn’t have predicted something this incredible, Dean. We’re all the good parts of those relationships.’

He truly felt that. They were committed, like those who waited for marriage, they had incredible sex like those who didn’t want to commit … and Castiel tried to think of some way that they could have a positive from those who jumped from partner to partner in search of being fulfilled. Perhaps it was that they had found what those people were looking for? Either way, his response seemed to make Dean tense, his entire body became rigid.

‘It’s not like we don’t have problems.’

Dean sounded strained, and Castiel felt a tiny frisson of annoyance. Dean had brought the subject up after all.

‘But we’re working on them. That’s better than those who keep searching for love like this.’

‘Are you always this optimistic?’ Dean groaned, but he began to relax again, his body moulding around Castiel’s, and the ex-angel found himself laughing. It was strange, to have Dean calm down after any mention of love. It was even more unusual when Dean kissed his chest again, but so satisfactory. He had to be coming around to Castiel’s way of thinking.

‘How could I not be? You said you’d be mine.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for sticking with me while I took forever writing this chapter. There's only a couple left now, and they might take just as long because I really don't want to rush them.
> 
> I'm also considering a sequel. I've had an idea for it, and I'ld love to know what you think of that, whether I should or whether the story works well as it? I have a ton of other stories to get on with if not. I also have some fluff on fanfiction.net, what do you think about me posting it on here as well?

Sam walked into the meeting room of the bunker, where Castiel was sitting quietly, staring at one of the many bookshelves crammed with leather-bound tomes. Castiel didn’t react to Sam’s presence, even as the tall hunter approached. He slid into the seat beside the ex-angel, and tapped him on the shoulder. Castiel started, and turned.

‘Hey.’

‘Hello, Sam.’

‘What’re you doing out here? I thought you and Dean would be in bed all day.’

Sam looked uncomfortable with the subject matter, and Castiel turned his attention to the table lamp, thinking. When was the last time he had really paid Sam any attention? He felt the guilt creeping up on him again as he realised that Dean hadn’t been focused on his brother either, not while they’d been so absorbed in each other. He decided to make the effort now, to begin to make amends to the most important person in his boyfriend’s life.

‘Dean wants to cook me dinner. Since I have to eat now.’ He glanced back at Sam quickly. ‘I’m not allowed in the kitchen while he prepares the meal. Nor are you or the girls.’

‘Glad he’s back to being a control freak,’ Sam smiled. ‘So, you’re back on?’

Castiel nodded, and Sam sat closer, his expression becoming serious once more, his eyes full of an earnest desperation that Castiel knew had managed to manipulate Dean thousands of times before.

‘Look, Cas … Dean’s been desperate for you to wake up. He barely ate, barely slept. I don’t think you get how invested he is in this. I don’t think you know what he’s been through the entire time you were broken up. And it’s great you’re back together now, honestly, but Cas? I can’t watch that again. I can’t see my brother be destroyed like that, and I can’t deal with it if you’re the one doing it to him. So just don’t mess it up, okay?’

Castiel refocused on the lamp. He had been so determined to be reunited with Dean that he really hadn’t considered what the hunter had gone through, at least until the other angels were there. And even then, he hadn’t dwelled on the notion too long, there hadn’t really been the option. He knew that Sam was about to fill him in, regardless of whether Dean would want that.

‘How bad was it?’ He asked in a low voice, as though Becky, Charlie or Dean could overhear them otherwise.

‘Pretty bad, Cas. He moped for days, all you could hear was him crying. He wouldn’t leave his room at first, we were talking to the bed covers. And then when he did come out, when we made him spend time with us, he was off. We were trying, you know? Cooking his favourite food, trying not to mention you in case it pissed him off. But even that … you know, Becky made him a pie, trying to get through to him, and he told her it would taste of dick.’

Castiel could feel his chest hurting with everything Sam was telling him. He had never regretted that stupid decision to wipe Dean’s memory more than now, with the knowledge of what he’d put Dean through. How did Dean ever decide to take him back? Regardless of how he felt. And yet, Castiel didn’t know how to articulate any of this to Sam. He latched onto the one piece of information that he could say anything about.

‘Did Becky cook a cherry pie?’

There was an unusual tension in the room, and Castiel regretted the words immediately. He didn’t want to trivialise the conversation, and he was afraid Sam would take it that way. But it just made more sense if the pie filling was cherry, if Dean was likening the flavour to genitalia. What else could Dean have refused to eat or drink on the basis that it would remind him of Castiel?

‘I’m going to pretend you never said that,’ Sam said eventually. ‘It’s going in the same box as the “I meant that literally, Sam,” comments from Dean.’

So Sam had realised what Castiel was intending. The ex-angel wondered how much Sam struggled with the idea of the sexual elements of his relationship with Dean.

‘What else did he stop eating?’

‘Not much. Pancakes. He wouldn’t touch coffee or beer either. Becky said she thought it was to do with you.’

Castiel nodded, although he didn’t understand Dean’s aversion to beer. He knew it would be something he would never be able to broach with the hunter either, because then he would have to explain that Sam had done this, had forced this conversation on him, and the last thing Castiel wanted to do was strain the brother’s relationship further.

‘I never realised-‘

‘I know you didn’t,’ Sam continued over Castiel. ‘But you have to now, okay? You have to. Whatever made you decide to steal his memories, whatever was going through your head - Cas, if you care about him at all, you’ll put him first, right? Because no matter how much he acts like a control freak, or a robot, my brother? He feels things pretty deeply. He just doesn’t know, or doesn’t want to, express that. But he said he’d be with you, and to him that’s huge.’

Castiel looked back at the younger Winchester finally, and smiled weakly, knowing Dean would kill him for confessing this.

‘I know, Sam. He told me he loves me. I didn’t think Dean knew how to say that word. Believe me, there’s no way I want to ruin this, ever again. I didn’t in the first place. Things just got out of hand.’

Sam didn’t seem surprised about Dean’s proclamation of love, and Castiel was instantly suspicious. What had Sam and Dean discussed in the previous few weeks?

‘Yeah, they did. You know, the entire time you were in that coma? Dean didn’t leave your side. We had to force him out for food and the bathroom, and most of the time he only agreed if one of us watched you while he did. This morning was the first time he’d left you alone for five minutes. He had all of us looking up everything the men of letters had ever written about sirens just to see what we could do to wake you up. He jumped at the idea of the dream root to go talk to you. I don’t know what went on between you before you broke up, Cas, but my brother has been showing - without even thinking about it - how much he loves you. You got lucky hearing it.’

Castiel knew Sam was driving the point home to ensure Dean wouldn’t be mistreated again.

‘I know I was lucky, Sam. Thank you.’

Sam’s eyebrows rose, and Castiel knew he hadn’t been expecting the sincere tone that he had used to deliver those last words.

‘I know what I did wasn’t acceptable, and I know that you were trying to help Dean the entire time. I know he’s confided in you, in his own way. But thank you for still giving me a chance.’

‘You’re still my friend, Cas.’

‘Good, I’m glad. I know you’re only trying to look out for Dean.’

Sam nodded, slowly, and then looked down at his fingers, which he was knotting together. He laughed nervously as he did so.

‘So um, he told me about what he walked into, in your coma. That house and everything? Is that something you want?’

Castiel looked down at his own hands, feeling dismay when he saw that there was no ring there. It had felt so comfortable on, so much a part of him. He knew that the picture hadn’t materialised either, because that would definitely have been a talking point with Dean earlier.

‘I mean, I know what Dean’s like,’ Sam continued. ‘I know he’ll shut down anything he’s not ready for. He was freaking out over the whole marriage thing.’

‘Oh.’ Castiel was perplexed. Dean had painted it as though he was uncomfortable with the fantasy in its entirety, the house and the changes in Castiel. Sam was honing in on one detail. ‘I never considered marriage before.’

Sam didn’t respond, and Castiel felt compelled to continue.

‘Honestly, Sam, it’s not a big deal. What I want, what Dean wants, it all makes marriage seem trivial. I still have him, that’s what counts.’

Sam cracked his knuckles, and Castiel assumed he was preparing himself for a response, one that probably was about how Castiel shouldn’t let Dean get his way all the time, and he should say if he wanted the hunter to become his husband. Thankfully, before Sam could continue to accidentally apply pressure on an unnecessary issue, Becky and Charlie appeared, Charlie perching on the table in front of them, and Becky cautiously taking a spot on Sam’s knee.

‘We just got kicked out of the kitchen,’ Charlie announced. Becky nodded as Sam pulled her closer.

‘Yep, we only went in to grab a drink, and he started yelling. Although, Charlie asked him if he was cooking dinner for everyone, the way he was working at the stove.’

‘It smelled yummy. Boy’s totally cray though,’ Charlie shot a look at Castiel, who pursed his lips together rather than respond. Clearly, Charlie wasn’t as accepting of the fact he was reinstated as Dean’s boyfriend.

‘He just wants it to go well,’ Becky shrugged, and Castiel watched as she took Sam’s hand gently, and started addressing him. ‘He’s only cooking for Cas, and he said he wants us out the bunker when its done. That’s the nice version of what he said, anyway.’

Castiel couldn’t suppress his smile, even as Sam rolled his eyes.

‘He owes us.’

Castiel watched as Sam carefully lifted Becky off his lap, pressed a small kiss to her forehead, and then headed in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Castiel alone with the girls. The second Sam was out of sight, Becky was squealing and hugging his neck tightly.

‘I’m so glad you’re awake!’

Castiel held her back gingerly, noting how slight she was compared to Dean, how bony and small. She continued chattering away even as she withdrew from the hug and settled in Sam’s vacated chair, and Castiel was grateful that at least she didn’t feel the need to remind him of what he owed Dean.

‘Where did you go, Cas? Did you not hear us all praying to you? We were so worried. You remember I said you could stay, right?’

Castiel waited until she paused, and allowed him to speak.

‘I did come back, Becky, as soon as I could, but you’d already left. I had to go to Heaven.’

‘Oh, okay. Good. As long as we’re still friends. You know you can talk to me, anytime. I won’t tell Sam a thing, promise.’

She mimed locking her lips shut and throwing away the key. Castiel smiled warmly at her.

‘Of course we’re still friends, Becky.’

‘So what happened in Heaven?’ She leaned on one hand, blinking her big eyes at him.

‘They took my grace, made me human. That’s why I didn’t respond to any prayers, I didn’t hear them.’

She clutched her other hand to her chest, her eyes growing wider.

‘Oh, Cas! And Dean still managed to find you. That’s so cute!’

‘That’s a lifetime movie,’ Charlie grumbled.

‘Well, I was on my way here after I found your place empty.’

Becky nodded, and looked over at Charlie.

‘Come on, you know that’s so cute.’

‘It’s adorable.’ Charlie said drily. ‘So are the hickeys.’

Becky reached over immediately, grabbing Castiel’s chin and tilting it up. Castiel didn’t understand what Charlie was referring to, or why Becky had reacted that way. She clucked her tongue after a moment.

‘You couldn’t even hide that in a turtleneck.’

‘I bet Dean’s proud of that handiwork.’ Charlie stuck in.

‘What on earth are you talking about?’ Castiel finally asked. Charlie held a compact mirror in front of him, and he could see in the reflection a trail of bruises along his neck. He didn’t remember being hurt on his throat, especially not by Dean, but it seemed to be a foregone conclusion that Dean had done it to him.

‘What are you guys doing?’ Sam asked from behind Castiel, obviously having returned from his brother.

‘Looking at Cas’ hickey’s,’ Charlie filled him in. Sam walked closer, and stooped to look at Cas’ throat as well. Castiel watched as Sam’s expression moved from curious into a poker face.

‘Dean didn’t hurt me,’ Castiel whispered, in case Sam’s reaction was due to some kind of anger at his brother. He didn’t expect the younger hunter to start laughing.

‘We know he didn’t, Cas,’ Sam was shaking his head, a bemused expression now on his face. ‘I bet he’s waiting to see how long it takes you to notice.’

‘How did it even happen?’ Castiel asked, looking back in the mirror at the clusters of blue and black circles all along his neck. The other three only laughed, as though it were hysterical that Dean had somehow bruised his neck.

‘Ask Dean,’ Sam finally managed. ‘He said he’ll be ready for you in about twenty minutes, okay? And then you’re spending time with us.’

Sam gestured to Becky, and Castiel felt his stomach drop. He had expected after this dinner that Dean would treat the rest of the evening as a date, even if they were still in the bunker.

‘Okay. Does Dean have a case?’ Castiel tried to sound off-hand, as though it wasn’t bothering him to know that he might not be spending time with his boyfriend. They all laughed again.

‘I meant you and Dean.’ Sam rolled his eyes, and stood behind Becky, rubbing her arms gently, stooping down to kiss her head gently. Becky grinned at Sam’s attention. ‘So, what’re we having for dinner, since Dean’s banned us from the kitchen?’

‘I don’t know, Chinese?’

‘Ugh, well, while you’re all being sickeningly couple-y,’ Charlie slid off the table and began walking away. ‘I’m going to go out and see what the locals are up to. Later, bitches.’

‘Hey, Charlie!’ Sam called at her retreating back. She turned her head. ‘Take one of the cars in the garage. Not the Impala, but one of the others.’

‘Cool. Retro.’ Charlie skipped the rest of the way out of the room, as Sam and Becky began debating what food they’d order in for their own meal. Castiel listened while internally counting down the minutes until he was allowed into the kitchen.

*

In the brief wait to be allowed in to see Dean, Castiel watched as Sam and Becky negotiated their own meal, left the bunker to collect their order, and come back. The smell of the chow mein alone had Castiel’s stomach growling ferociously, and he didn’t even wait for Sam to check his watch. As soon as the twenty minutes were up, Castiel stood and walked through the bunker to the kitchen. Dean was placing two forks on the table as the ex-angel walked through the threshold. The hunter looked up, and smiled warmly, before closing the distance between them and greeting him with a kiss. Castiel felt the butterflies stir in his stomach at that. It was so domesticated, and completely unexpected that Dean would do something like that. He knew better than to bring it up to Dean, however.

‘Hey,’ Dean sounded eager, though he was handling Castiel gently, holding him just by the elbows. ‘You hungry?’

‘Very.’ Castiel looked at the counter, and saw the plates of spaghetti and meatballs. The butterflies doubled as he realised how much Dean had been paying attention. ‘Did you do the meal that Lady and the Tramp ate?’

Castiel didn’t miss the small drop in Dean’s expression, though he salvaged the mood quickly by hitching a smile on his face. Castiel didn’t try and guess what it was in his phrasing that his boyfriend didn’t like.

‘Spaghetti and meatballs, Cas. Not everything’s a cartoon. You want a beer?’

Dean led him to the table, pulling a chair out and waiting beside it. Castiel realised he was meant to sit, and he did so, letting Dean move the chair closer to the table and walking to the refrigerator. Castiel presumed that not everything’s a cartoon implied Dean wasn’t as enthusiastic about Disney as he was. And it was typical of Dean to think of beer, but Castiel had another agenda.

‘Um, could I have some wine, maybe?’

‘Sure,’ Dean reached towards the back of the refrigerator, and Castiel was secretly relieved that Dean hadn’t worked out his motives. He wanted to compare how it would be now, to how he imagined it. The coffee and pancakes had been so different, after all.

Dean returned to the table, and popped the cork off of the bottle, before reaching to one of the high shelves and grabbing two glasses, which he filled with white wine. Castiel thought back, to the evening he had spent in the fantasy where he and Dean were curled together, drinking wine and just enjoying each others company. The parallel wasn’t missed, but Castiel hoped that somehow, this would be more enjoyable. He felt the compulsion to tell Dean about the evening they’d spent together in his dream world.

‘You’re having one too?’

Dean rubbed his neck as he placed the glasses in front of their seats.

‘Is that a problem?’

Castiel shook his head, watching Dean put the bottle back onto the table and bring a plate. It was far from a problem. He felt apprehensive as he brought it up, afraid of pushing Dean too far, but he owed it to his boyfriend to explain, surely?

‘You know, in that, in my … I knew about wine. I don’t know how.’

‘Oh, right.’ There was a strange silence between them as Dean laid the plates in front of Castiel, and he began to regret bringing it up. At least, until Dean stood behind him, hands caressing his shoulders. He found himself leaning back into his boyfriend’s chest, his tongue loosening as his inhibitions weakened.

‘You had some with me once.’

Dean slid his arms across Castiel’s chest, and rested his chin against the ex-angel’s forehead.

‘Cas, you know it wasn’t real. This is real. And isn’t this better?’

Castiel considered it. No, Dean wasn’t as free with his emotions as in the dream world, but there was a raw honesty now, and somehow that carried more weight, knowing what it cost the hunter to even get to this point.

‘This is much better.’

‘Good.’ Dean leaned down further and kissed Castiel upside down, before heading back to the counter for his plate, and slipping into the chair opposite the ex-angel. He immediately began scooping up his food with his fork, and Castiel felt disappointed. As soon as he’d seen the spaghetti, he’d hoped that Dean would completely recreate the scene between the two dogs. Or at least, the idea of accidentally eating the same noodle and finishing in a kiss appealed.

‘I thought we were going to share a plate, you know,’ he tried to sound conversational, picking up his own fork and prodding the dish. Dean sucked on a few stray noodles still poking out of his mouth, then chewed quickly, his eyes locked on Castiel’s. He swallowed audibly.

‘There’s too much table in the way.’

Castiel looked at the table settings, and slid his around. He knew Dean had laid it out so that they could look at each other, but by moving his place setting around, Castiel could be sitting close enough to share the meals, and yet still maintain eye contact. Dean watched without taking another bite as Castiel moved his chair around also, and sat back in it casually, rewarding himself with a large slug of the white wine. He fought the urge to promptly spit it out and instead swallowed quickly. Wine hadn’t tasted like that in his dream world, it had been sweet and sharp and delicious.

‘That’s disgusting,’ he said, wrinkling his nose. Dean grabbed his own glass and took a mouthful, then shrugged carelessly.

‘It’s fine, Cas.’

Castiel bit back the retort that maybe Dean’s alcohol taste buds were destroyed by the sheer volume of rotgut and Bobby’s hooch that he’d imbibed over the years, and instead helped himself to Dean’s food. The hunter’s response was to sigh.

‘Yeah, I guess we’re definitely a couple, you’re stealing my food.’

‘We’re sharing, Dean.’ Castiel informed him obstinately, spiking a meatball onto the edge of the tines.

‘You’re lucky I love you.’ Dean muttered. Castiel didn’t marvel over how casually he said the word that time, and opted to downplay it. Obviously, Dean wasn’t annoyed about Castiel’s decision to share food if he was willing to talk so openly. Instead, the ex-angel closed the small distance between them to press their lips together once more, and then continued babbling, since Dean seemed to be in such a good mood.

‘We should do that thing where we eat the same bit of spaghetti and end up kissing. Like in the-‘

Dean kissed him this time, cutting off the words, and the butterflies in Castiel’s stomach leapt up.

‘Or we can just do that?’ Dean’s voice lowered, and Castiel swirled the meatball in some sauce, before stuffing it into his mouth. ‘Fine …’

Dean seemed to give up resisting, and stuck his fork onto Castiel’s plate. As soon as he swallowed, Dean raised his fork and made him eat the noodles there.

They carried on the meal in the same way, poking at each others plates, Castiel determined to eat the same noodles as Dean, who in turn would try to feed him. And between mouthfuls there were the small kisses, the constant flow of conversation that never really went anywhere and only served to punctuate their food-flirting. Castiel hadn’t eaten much food in his existence, but it was the best meal he’d ever had. He wondered if Dean felt the same way, and then put the idea to rest. Dean must have enjoyed it, because - as Sam had said - if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have participated. And Dean was so attentive, he’d gotten Castiel a drink of water when it became clear he wouldn’t be touching the wine again, and then drank from his glass so the wine didn’t go to waste.

It felt as though no time has passed before their plates were empty, save for a few sauce smears, and Dean was standing, intent on washing the dishes.

‘Sam wants us to spend time with him and Becky,’ he said cheerfully as he headed to the sink. Castiel followed him, in an echo of that morning.

‘I know. He told me while you were cooking. I guess they’re waiting for us to go and find them?’

‘We could keep them waiting, you know,’ Dean smirked flirtatiously. Castiel didn’t have to strain to decipher the subtext. Instead he rested his forehead against Dean’s cheek and kissed his boyfriend’s shoulder.

‘You have a one track mind. It’ll be fun.’

He meant that, though he wasn’t sure if Dean would agree about how entertaining an evening with his brother and Becky would be. Dean hadn’t really spoken about his thoughts on Sam’s relationship, Castiel realised. He had dominated the hunter’s attention far too much.

‘Sure. You wanna go out there and let them know we’re ready? I’ll finish this up.’

‘Are you sure? You’ve done all the work-‘

‘It’s fine, Cas.’ Dean bestowed another kiss on his mouth, and Castiel realised he’d been overly sensitive that morning. Dean liked things neat and tidy, and that extended to the dishes. ‘Whatever it is they’ve got planned for tonight, we stick together, okay? They wanna watch a movie, we argue for something that isn’t a chick flick.’

Castiel personally wouldn’t have minded a chick flick. He liked the happy endings, the overcoming adversity that those tales featured prominently. He used to imagine Dean looking at him in the same way as the lead roles, there would be something whimsical about seeing it now that he’d won his lead man. But equally, he liked that Dean wanted to work as a team, to be a unit, so of course there was only one real response.

‘Agreed. Don’t be too long.’

Castiel left the kitchen, feeling pleased with himself for managing to leave Dean for a brief period of time. He realised he was being codependent, but there were excuses for it. He was human now and needed help, they had just re-established their relationship, Dean had said he was in love. For now, it was entirely rational for him to be so attached.

He made his way back to the meeting room, where Sam and Becky had left a pile of take out containers and wrappers on one table, and were covering the other with a stack of boxes. Sam looked up as Castiel entered the room, and smiled.

‘You’re done? Dean didn’t try any funny business?’

‘He said we should keep you waiting. He was implying-‘

‘Yeah, well,’ Sam cleared his throat. ‘We thought we’d play board games. How ‘bout it?’

‘I played Sorry once, with Dean.’ Castiel wanted to take the words back as soon as they’d left his mouth. He meant that he understood the rules of a board game, but he realised that in the circumstances, the title of the game carried more weight. It had with Dean back then too. ‘It was at the mental facility.’

He hoped that by mentioning that fact, Sam would remember that he was the cause for Castiel’s stay there. Although it was Castiel breaking down the wall in Sam’s mind that began that chain of events …

‘Well, we don’t have Sorry, but we do have Boggle?’ Sam sounded carefree, as he wound his arms around Becky. ‘Wanna pick something out?’

Castiel looked at the cardboard packaging, reading the unfamiliar labels and trying to guess which game Dean would prefer. He couldn’t imagine Dean enjoying any of them, he had thrown Sorry to the floor after all.

‘I don’t know any of these,’ Castiel said eventually, hoping that would cover him enough. Sam shrugged a shoulder, as Becky slid a box from the pile.  
‘How about Operation?’ She held it out to Castiel, who frowned at the packaging.

‘We have to remove that man’s body parts?’

‘Board games? Really?’ Dean strode into the room, stopping by the table. He was just out of Castiel’s reach.

‘Really.’ Sam’s tone was final. Dean slid into a chair.

‘Fine.But we’re playing in teams. Couple versus couple.’

Castiel felt a spike of excitement in his stomach as Dean described them in that way. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to Dean being so blasé about them being a couple. Love did some very strange things to the hunter. Sam and Dean continued their snarky remarks to each other.

‘I was hoping for an actual challenge, Dean.’

‘It’s on.’

Castiel looked at Becky, who pursed her lips back at him, her eyebrows raised as though she believed a fight between the brothers was inevitable. Castiel hoped that wasn’t the case. Surely the evening was about bonding, and making sure everyone was finally happy? He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Sam setting out the game, and Dean finally taking a chair. He pulled Castiel down beside him as they waited for Sam to be happy that the game was, in fact, playable. Becky took the chair opposite Castiel with a beady look in her eye that Castiel could only assume was linked to some kind of gossip.

‘So, are we going to talk about it?’ She asked, her enthusiasm apparent in her voice. Dean turned to Castiel, who immediately looked back at him.

‘Sure. We take it in turns to remove the white plastic bits, without knocking on the metal. If you beep, you don’t get the part. Whoever gets the most wins.’

‘It sounds demonic,’ Castiel responded. Wouldn’t it cause the game man pain?

‘Nah, it’s like a surgeon. Like um, like Doctor Sexy.’

Dean’s favourite television programme. If he was likening the game to Doctor Sexy, it couldn’t be all that bad.

‘Oh geez, you’re not going to fantasise about Cas in a white coat and cowboy boots now, are you?’ Sam joined in the conversation. He made it sound like it was truly kinky to do so. He must have no real idea of what Castiel and Dean were really like. Becky wasn’t about to be deterred, however.

‘I was talking about the hickeys.’

Castiel wished she hadn’t brought them up in front of Dean. He knew he should have, and then he could have panicked appropriately as Dean calmed him down and somehow pulled a solution to the vast bruising out of thin air. Castiel rubbed at his neck as though his fingers would magically remove them, and Dean carefully prised his fingers away, looking at the collection of bruises that marred his lovers skin.

’They think you did this to me,’ Castiel whispered, ashamed that Becky and Sam might be able to hear him. He wanted to tell Dean that he didn’t agree, he certainly didn’t blame the hunter. He wanted to ask what it was, how it could have happened, and most importantly, how to get rid of them.

‘Mmmmm, I did.’

Dean’s response managed to be both confusing and disappointing. He was taking ownership of them, without panicking in the slightest. In fact, he seemed proud of the idea that he’d damaged Castiel’s skin.

‘It wasn’t going to be anyone else, Cas,’ Sam stuck in. From the look that Dean gave his lover at that interjection, Castiel knew that his mind had jumped immediately to Meg. Even with Castiel’s reassurances that he wasn’t interested, that Meg had been a mistake, and only a kiss. Luckily, Sam continued talking. ‘Can we just play?’  
He immediately picked up part of the game and began to play, as Dean traced his thumb over the marks. Castiel took advantage of Becky and Sam’s lack of concentration to whisper to Dean again.

‘How did you do it? You never hurt me, Dean.’

There was an unusually soft look in Dean’s eyes as he leaned even closer, the tip of his nose brushing against Castiel’s ear.

‘When I kissed your neck. I bet you’ve got a great one on your leg.’

Castiel thought back to their session that afternoon. Dean had been kissing, sucking and biting at his neck. But he always did that, and Castiel had never had such a reaction before. Of course, this was the first time they had made out while he was human … he must have removed any other hickeys that Dean had given him without knowing it. He didn’t remember marking Dean’s body in that way, and he had definitely given Dean’s neck some attention too.

‘HEY!’ Sam interrupted Castiel’s musings, smacking the table loudly and glaring at them as Castiel shifted his focus onto the taller hunter, and Dean turned as well. 

’We’re playing a game now, right?’

Castiel looked down at his knees, as Dean leaned back in his chair. Castiel felt like he was being told off, and he wasn’t wholly sure why. What was so wrong with Dean trying to offer an explanation? He felt the need to defend his boyfriend at least.

‘Dean was just explaining how this happened,’ he indicated his neck, hoping that Sam would understand Castiel’s lack of awareness, his need to be educated in what   
had happened. Sam rolled his eyes instead, his lip curling up in a sneer.

‘Do you two do anything that doesn’t involve sex?’

Castiel looked away, feeling ashamed. After everything that had happened, was that all Sam thought their relationship consisted of? Even after their earlier discussion, when they had agreed it was unusual for Dean to have confessed his feelings. He had thought Sam understood that there were layers to the relationship, even ones that Castiel didn’t understand yet.

‘Have either of us complained about this whole board game thing?’ Dean started speaking, his voice wavering with poorly-concealed anger. ‘Or spending time with you and Becky? Did I chew you out in the kitchen earlier when you changed my plans? And what about the last three weeks, huh Sam? I wasn’t trying to bone him while he was unconscious. You don’t see everything, Sam.’

Castiel felt flattered that Dean would stand up for their relationship in that way, but he still felt a burning shame that Sam could reduce their relationship down to something so crass. He looked up and saw Becky mouthing at him, trying to reassure him that he and Dean were cute together, sorry Sam was so grouchy.

‘He’s it, Sam. The One.’

Becky stopped mouthing reassurances, her eyes growing wide, and Castiel turned to look at Dean, catching Sam’s baffled expression as he did so. Whatever Dean meant in those five words, it had a huge impact. Castiel had a feeling it meant something more than _the one I’m dating_ , but he wasn’t quite sure what. Sam’s next words were even more confusing.

‘Real estate?’

‘Don’t push it.’

Dean at least, seemed to understand what Sam meant by _real estate_. They communicated in a way that was unique to the brothers, and Castiel found it confusing. So did Becky, it appeared, as when he looked at her, she shrugged.

‘Just keep the PDA to a minimum. It’s your turn.’

And with that, the game resumed. Dean picked up the tweezers that were attached to the board, and bent closer to the game. Castiel’s burning curiosity got the better of him.

‘I’m the one what?’

Dean paused, as though he were considering answering, but Becky was the one to fill Castiel in, her enthusiastic nature unable to hold back. Castiel was happy to see her so bubbly, as it was still so rare to experience.

’The one. You know, the one he wants to be with forever, the one-‘

‘Becky. I’m concentrating.’ Dean cut her off, and Castiel reflected quickly. Dean thought that highly of him? He had been overwhelmed just by the hunter using the word love, but this was … this was a huge commitment. No wonder Sam and Becky had reacted to the words, Dean had pretty much declared them bonded for life. Castiel felt compelled to reassure his boyfriend that it was very much reciprocated, even as Dean lowered the tweezers to the game board.

‘Dean, you’re the One too.’

Dean’s hand jogged, and the tweezers hit the metal surround, and the board made the buzzing sound that Dean had explained about. But he didn’t turn around and yell at Castiel, tell him they were meant to be teaming up against Sam and Becky, remember? He dropped the tweezers completely, folding his arms tight against his chest.

‘I hate this game.’

Castiel reached over and touched his arm gently, about to reassure him, and Dean quickly unfolded his arms, grabbing another box from the pile. Maybe it wasn’t the time to discuss Dean’s revelation, the ex-angel reflected.

‘Lets play this instead.’

Instead of Sam complaining, as Castiel had expected given his mood, he merely took the box from his brother and began to set it up instead, Operation being relegated to the end of the table. Castiel took advantage of the momentary lapse in concentration to lean closer to Dean, and whisper in his ear.

‘I didn’t mean to distract you.’

Dean leaned towards him.

‘You never mean to, Cas.’ He sounded amused. Castiel didn’t understand, not completely. It sounded like Dean was frequently distracted by him. At least, he hoped that was what Dean intended.

‘I meant what I said.’ He added, hoping that the hunter would understand. His brain was feeling sluggish suddenly, and his eyes were itching.

‘I know. I did too. Hey,’ Dean shifted even closer, dropping his voice further. Castiel could barely hear him. ‘Sam’s going to play to win, wanna have some fun with him?’

Castiel stifled a yawn, not wanting Dean to think he was bored, or being rude somehow. And Sam’s sudden attitude after being so positive that morning was grating, of course he would back up Dean if his boyfriend wanted to mess with Sam. Dean took his hand, rubbing a thumb across his knuckles in a familiar way as Sam started babbling about the game. Castiel was barely following, his brain felt like it was full of cotton wool. He was concentrating on Dean’s thumb, on the way it moved, on how his fingers felt pressed against Castiel’s own.

Castiel looked at the little white tiles in front of him, knowing he had to form a word from them, but he still felt sluggish, unable to think of a word that made sense. Everyone was quiet as the game went on, and Castiel found his attention wavering. It felt as if there were something truly wrong with him.

‘You need help there, Cas? You have to make a word-‘ Sam eventually spoke up. Castiel interrupted him as he fought to remain alert.

‘I know. Sam. I’m thinking.’

He tapped a finger on the rack of tiles, and grudgingly removed his hand from Dean’s, sliding the tiles around until he finally could see something. He placed his tiles on the board, and caught the expression on Sam’s face. Through the strange fuzz of his mind, he could appreciate that the taller hunter wasn’t impressed.

‘Cas, that’s not a word.’

Castiel looked at the game board again, and saw what the problem was.

‘It is. It’s Enochian.’

Had he really done that? Castiel heard Dean’s snort of laughter beside him, as Sam pressed on.

‘What does it mean?’

‘It means hummingbird.’

Sam looked at him skeptically, and then at Dean.

‘Okay, new rule, we only play English words.’

‘Is that English spellings?’ Castiel couldn’t help asking, blinking his eyes furiously. Sam’s reaction was to grab at his hair, tugging on it almost violently.

‘Can we not play one game without you two making it difficult?’

Castiel felt slightly affronted. He wasn’t trying to be difficult, he was trying to join in. He hadn’t realised he was making an enochian word until it had been pointed out to him. But Sam was acting as though this was sabotage.

‘Could play poker.’ Dean shrugged. Castiel knew he would never make it through poker. Sam began to make a strange, high-pitched whining sound, as Becky began to click her tiles on their rack.

‘Sammy? Maybe you could let it go. I mean, Enochian is Castiel’s first language. Right?’ She smiled sympathetically at Castiel, who gave her a small smile back as he nodded.

‘Yes. It is. And even if I’m not an angel anymore, I still remember the language.’

At least he still had that connection to his past, his family. Sam looked up at Becky, who placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him softly.

‘Come on, Sam. Maybe we’ll learn something.’

Sam didn’t respond. He looked steadily at Becky instead, and Castiel noted through the fug in his mind that it was similar to the way he and Dean looked at each other sometimes. He leaned closer to his boyfriend.

‘We do that better.’

‘We do everything better.’ Dean whispered back, sliding an arm around him. Castiel responded gratefully, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder, his fingers taking hold of Dean’s arm as he slid it across Castiel’s torso. Sam looked up as Castiel’s eyelids fluttered, threatening to remain closed.

‘Guys, really?’ Sam’s voice sounded so far away. Castiel was sinking into that wonderful smell of Dean’s, and the firmness of his chest and arms, the warmth of his body, and that sense of security, of being loved, that he’d been wanting. Dean flexed his arms, squeezing Castiel, and he roused himself, a little.

‘You know, I’m tired.’

Dean rested his head against his boyfriend’s, nuzzling slightly as he replied.

‘You wanna go to bed?’

Castiel nodded, feeling all his body protesting at the movement. Dean stood, and practically lifted him from his seat, laying Castiel’s arm across his shoulder and supporting the sleep-filled ex-angel.

‘You coming back, Dean?’ Sam sounded so far away.

‘No. Going to bed too.’ Dean meanwhile, sounded so close. Too close, as though Castiel existed surrounded by Dean. Which felt accurate, he was consumed by the hunter. Sam spoke again, but Castiel didn’t catch the words. He was falling down a void, lined with Dean, with his smell, his voice, his very essence. Maybe Dean said something back to Sam, maybe he didn’t, Castiel stopped being aware. He faintly registered his legs moving, and felt the need to say something to Dean. The most important thing.

‘Dean? I love you.’

‘I know baby, I know.’ Dean’s tone was like honey, and Castiel bathed in the warmth of it, even as he babbled on, only half-aware of what he was saying.

‘Thank you. For taking me back, for still caring. For forgiving me.’

Dean didn’t reply to that. Or did he? Castiel didn’t know. The only thing he noticed was that his legs stopped moving, and then somehow he was laying on something soft. Their bed. He was finally, happily in their bed. Dean was speaking, but it didn’t really register. He just had to answer, something that Dean would want to hear.

‘Okay Dean. I love you.’

And the last thing that Castiel really noticed was Dean next to him, skin-to-skin, curled around him, solid and permanent and his.


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry it's taken me so long to update! I've been doing a Sam cross-stitch for a friend (it's so frustratingly close to being finished) and I went to Jason Manns and Rob Benedict's gig in London on Wednesday. Was so good, but has meant I've barely been writing :/ as such, I'm not sure about this chapter, so hopefully it's better than my overly critical voice-in-my-head says. Dean's one in Date With An Angel will be along soon x Also, I'm going to go through these chapters at some point and clean up the summaries etc. On with the fic now, yes?

Castiel stirred slowly, feeling groggy as he stretched in bed. His hands felt around for Dean, even as his eyes blinked open, and he saw that he was alone under the blankets. He wracked his brain for what may have happened, but he couldn’t remember past sitting at the table beside Dean, playing board games with Sam and Becky.  
His fingers closed on a folded piece of paper, and he pulled it closer, sitting up in the bed and rubbing his eyes to read.

_Hey Cas,_  
 _There was an emergency tonight. Sam and me went to help out Garth. I’ll be back soon, okay? And we’ll catch up properly then, maybe go away for a couple of days? Until I’m back, look after the girls so Sam doesn’t whine about Becky all the time, okay? And it’d be great if you could make an effort with Charlie. She likes Harry Potter, go ask her about that._  
 _I’ll call you later._  
 _Miss you._  
 _Dean._

Castiel couldn’t pretend he wasn’t disappointed. He seemed to keep missing the opportunity to wake up with Dean, and it was something that he wanted very much. But he knew from things Dean had said previously that Garth probably did need a lot of assistance. Likewise, he knew that Dean had meant every word, so there was at least the possibility of them spending a few days alone together when the hunter finally returned home.

He climbed out of bed, noting that he was in Dean’s shirt that he had borrowed the day before, and his pants. Dean must have put him to bed. He felt the smile creep across his face at that thought, of Dean being so caring. And then he headed out, towards the bathroom, hating that now he was a human, he had to listen to strange bodily urges. Like the current one that was telling him to urinate.

He bumped into Charlie by the bathroom door, as she was leaving. There was a strained tension between them as they sized each other up.

‘Sorry,’ Cas muttered.

‘Uh-huh.’ Charlie made to move away, back to the bedroom Sam and Dean had given her. Castiel turned around at the bathroom door, determined to make his boyfriend proud.

‘Um, Charlie? Dean said I should ask you about um, oh …’ what had Dean suggested? ‘Um, Perry something?’

Charlie narrowed her eyes, and shook her head slightly as she mouthed the word Perry like she couldn’t understand the meaning.

‘You mean Katy Perry? She’s okay. She’s hot.’

‘No, it was a male name. He said you liked it.’

Charlie shrugged, and Castiel felt increasingly uncomfortable. How was Dean so at ease with her? Becky walked down the hall at that point, yawning and rubbing her cheek slowly.

‘Hey. Did Dean wake you up last night?’ She asked Castiel as soon as her yawn was over. He shook his head, disappointed suddenly. Sam had clearly disturbed Becky’s night to say goodbye.

‘He left a note.’

Becky carried on nodding, then headed past Castiel into the bathroom, and closed the door behind her. It took him a moment to realise what she’d done.

‘Becky!’ He called through the door.

‘I’ll just be a minute! And you’re talking with Charlie!’

‘I’m not used to being human.’

‘What do you take me for, Dean or something? Hold it.’

Castiel sighed, and looked back at Charlie, who was suppressing a smile.

‘I taught her that. No girl wants to sit in boy pee. Anyway, I’m not into dudes, didn’t Dean spell that out for you?’

Castiel nodded.

‘Maybe it was Henry?’ He made another attempt. At least they were managing to be civil. Dean would be thrilled. There was a spark of recognition in Charlie’s eye, and she smiled. A genuine smile, just for Castiel. He had to admit, it felt good to see.

‘Harry? Was it Harry Potter?’

Castiel wasn’t sure exactly what Dean had written - the note was still in their bedroom - but from Charlie’s enthusiasm, it must have been the correct one.

‘You wanna have a movie marathon? I have them downloaded. It’d pass the time until Dean gets back from wherever he went.’

‘Helping his friend Garth,’ Castiel nodded.

‘A Harry Potter marathon would be good! Do Sam and Dean have any junk food in here?’ Becky called from the bathroom. Charlie grinned at Castiel.

‘Wanna go buy some junk food? Becky’s going to be a while, she’s probably going to shower. You can pee in the store.’

Castiel had never imagined that he’d be running to a local store with Charlie to purchase food. He nodded, despite feeling almost outside of his vessel. It was an uncomfortable sensation, and one that didn’t fade as he got dressed in Dean’s clothes, followed Charlie through the bunker, and into one of the cars in the garage.

At the store, Castiel headed straight to the bathroom as Charlie grabbed a cart, and he found her again in the snack aisle, grabbing a giant packet of cheese doodles.

‘Better?’ She smiled. He nodded, and she grabbed a packet of tortilla chips. ‘Good. Anything you wanna eat? ‘Coz I’m just gonna grab a load of stuff, if there’s anything you really wanna try …’

Castiel glanced around at all the packaging surrounding them on the crowded shelves. He didn’t recognise much of it, and didn’t care to try anything either. There was only one thing he could think of that he really wanted to try, just to test a theory.

‘Where’s the pie?’

Charlie snorted with laughter, choking it down quickly when she saw the hurt expression on Castiel’s face.

‘In honour of Dean not absolutely killing me, no pie. Besides, last time he had any-‘

‘I know, I know,’ Castiel sighed. ‘It might be different now. He might eat it again.’

Charlie raised an eyebrow.

‘You got something to do with dick pie?’

Castiel felt his face heat up. Did everyone know about this dick pie fiasco?

‘Well, he might like to come home to it.’

Charlie looked at him for a moment, before folding her arms.

‘What is it with you anyway?’

Castiel didn’t understand the question, but he had the distinct feeling that Charlie was about to address their dislike for one another. It was something he wasn’t sure he really wanted out in the open, not when he’d been feeling so sorry for her the day before.

‘Well, pie was the only thing that came to mind-‘

‘What are you trying to pull with Dean?’ Charlie interrupted bluntly. Castiel’s cheeks burned.

‘Charlie, I know it’s difficult, being around couples when you’re single and feeling lonely-‘

‘Yeah, I’d rather be single and happy than with someone who fucks with my head.’ Charlie pushed the cart down the aisle, and Castiel followed her grudgingly. ‘I repeat, what’re you trying to pull with Dean? He’s my friend, and yeah he can take care of himself, but I can still be his _friend_ and stand up for him.’

Castiel didn’t miss Charlie’s emphasis.

‘I made a mistake, Charlie. I was overeager. But Dean’s forgiven me, that should be good enough.’

Charlie grabbed a box of corn dogs, and narrowed her eyes once more.

‘Know this: I will be watching you, and judging you. And if you fuck him about again, angel boy, I will hurt you. Maybe not physically, maybe I’ll never be able to do that, but I can access any mainframe I want. I will hack your life into complete misery.’

Castiel smiled in spite of himself.

‘I get why you’re friends with Dean. You make threats just like he does.’

‘Don’t start wiping my memories over it.’

‘I won’t. Maybe I’ll just put you off pie.’

Charlie threw him another stony look, and then smirked involuntarily.

‘At least you can hold your own, I guess.’

‘I’d rather Dean held it.’

She burst out laughing, even though Castiel wasn’t quite sure what he had even meant.

‘Yeah, I already got that. Fine, we’ll get pie, but we’ll have to eat it before Dean gets back or we won’t get any.’

‘Sorry, I can’t lie to Dean about pie. I’m not lying to him anymore.’

‘Dude, stop brown-nosing me.’

Castiel understood that as a joke, and felt a little better. Maybe Charlie wasn’t so bad, even if she didn’t feel the same way about him.

 

*

 

The movie marathon with the girls did not go as Castiel had expected. When he and Charlie had arrived back at the bunker, Charlie had insisted they arrange all their purchases around the coffee table in the room Sam and Dean had installed a widescreen television in. Becky came in the room, forks for the pie clutched in one hand as she balanced a couple of large bowls in a stack in front of her body. As Castiel took the bowls from her, and followed instructions with all the chips, Charlie’s phone rang, and she waved her arm wildly for them to be quiet.

‘Hey! … Oh, yeah, right … you’re an ass … hello. Yes, they’re under my jurisdiction. Well, my department pulls rank. What’s your superior’s name? … Mmhmm, because I’m going to be discussing a possible demotion for you. Do you really not know protocol? No, that’s correct, he’s a trainee. Does he look like he’s fully trained? Just give them what they want and stop wasting my time.’ She hung up and grinned at Castiel and Becky. ‘I love being Sam and Dean’s fake boss.’

Castiel tried not to let it get to him, that Dean had called Charlie instead of him. There was probably a good explanation for it. The girls didn’t seem ready to let him wallow, however, as they began chattering about the food and Charlie hooked her laptop to the television. Then they were pushing Castiel down on the sofa and thrusting a bowl of popcorn on his lap, both cuddling in on either side of him and reaching into the bowl.

He tried to pay attention to the movies, which were long and often - to him - nonsensical, but the girls seemed to enjoy the stories. Castiel supposed that, for regular humans, it was unusual to see floating candles and moving ceilings. But then it made no sense to Castiel that they didn’t react more vehemently to the likes of goblins, elves and trolls. Despite that, he did enjoy the storylines, and some of the jokes, and pretended to agree when Charlie began talking about her “homegirl, Hermione.”

They lost track of time, watching movies and eating junk food, and napped where they sat, only to wake up and begin on the next series that the girls had decided on, in a conversation that had gone over Castiel’s head. They were watching the final movie in the second series when the door opened, and Dean entered the room, Sam standing in the doorway.

‘What are you watching?’ Sam sounded amused, as Dean pushed his way between Castiel and Becky, practically sitting on his boyfriend’s lap, and grabbing a large handful of cheese doodles.

‘Breaking Dawn, part two,’ Castiel said absent-mindedly, watching as the large array of vampires sat around a campfire talking. Dean groaned, and kissed Castiel’s neck in a greeting. Castiel’s reaction was merely to pluck a cheese doodle from Dean’s hand, and nibbling on it slowly, absorbed in the movie.

‘Instead of that bullshit,’ Dean’s breath was hot in Castiel’s ear as he whispered. ‘We have some catching up to do.’

‘In a minute. I have a feeling there’s going to be a huge fight with the Volturi over Renesmee.’

‘Come on, Cas, please?’ Dean nipped his ear, and Castiel fought not to react.

‘I’m invested now, Dean.’

‘They stare at each other almost as much as you two do,’ Charlie observed. Dean ignored her, pressing even closer into Castiel, dropping his voice lower.

‘If you come with me now, I’ll let you top.’

‘After I find out what happens, Dean.’

Dean groaned loudly, nuzzling into Castiel’s neck.

‘Babe, nothing happens. It’s five movies of nothing happening.’

‘Well, then be glad you missed four-and-a-half of them.’

Dean huffed, and began kissing Castiel’s neck again, as though he were hoping to distract him completely. Castiel managed to wriggled a hand up, between his lover’s mouth and his own throat.

‘Dean, no. I’m still covered in bruises. Please, it’s getting interesting. And when the movie’s over, then we can go somewhere without an audience.’

Dean’s response was to kiss his fingertips, his attention caught by the action on the screen. Castiel sat a little straighter in his seat, glad that Dean wasn’t going to talk him out of watching the ending anymore.

‘I thought you guys were going to watch the Harry Potter movies?’ Sam said as the werewolves appeared behind the Cullens. Charlie tutted loudly.

‘We got through all those. And then we moved on to Twilight. Your girlfriend’s choice. Now shut up, it’s getting interesting.’ She sat forward, clutching a cushion. Castiel reached over to take Dean’s hand, forgetting about the cheese doodles that were already there, as Dean rested his head against his boyfriend’s shoulder, groaning quietly. Castiel managed not to smile over Dean’s actions, his sudden affection, instead he scooped a few more of the chips from Dean’s grasp and ate them, his eyes glued to the screen. He barely registered Sam crossing in front of the screen to get to Becky.

Castiel became absorbed once more in the movie, following the action, even as it was revealed to all be an imagined scenario, and up until the montage started. It was then that Dean’s words registered. He’d offered to let Castiel top? Had that been an offer to stop him from watching the movie, or was it because Dean had missed him while he had been away on the hunt? He turned his neck and kissed the top of the hunter’s head, leaving his mouth pressed against Dean’s scalp, breathing in the faint scent of his shampoo.

‘I’m ready now,’ he muttered. Dean reacted quickly, moving the bowl of snacks from Castiel’s lap, and pulling him out of the room and down the hallway. And then he was pressing Castiel against a wall, his hands sliding up underneath Castiel’s - or rather, what he had borrowed from Dean - shirt as he kissed the ex-angel roughly, their teeth clicking together as he pushed his tongue into Castiel’s mouth. Castiel kissed back with a similar enthusiasm, trying to keep Dean’s frantic pace, even as Dean’s hands slid further up, pushing his arms up, and the shirt over his head.

‘We should get back to the room,’ Cas managed to gasp out.

‘You suddenly want an audience?’ Dean breathed back, pressing closer so Castiel was sandwiched between his lover and the wall.

‘I meant our room.’

Dean chuckled, his fingers still grazing Castiel’s side.

‘I know, baby, I know.’

But instead of fumbling over to their bedroom, Dean resumed the intense kisses, pushing his body harder against Castiel’s. The ex-angel could hardly breathe from the onslaught.

‘Dean,’ he gasped out in between kisses. ‘Why did you call Charlie on your hunt? Why didn’t you call me?’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Dean licked along Castiel’s lower lip. ‘Babe, I needed to stay professional, you think I could’ve, talking to you?’

Castiel skimmed his fingertips through Dean’s hair.

‘Sounds reasonable.’

Dean resumed kissing him hard, fingers curling around his wrists until he was pinned against the wall. Castiel could feel himself getting harder, eager for his lover, though he knew Dean was going to take his time, to savour it.

‘Can I come on the next hunt?’

‘No. You’re going to stay safe.’

Castiel didn’t argue, though he fully planned to bring it up when they weren’t indulging in foreplay. Dean couldn’t always leave him at home to worry. He was going to change the hunter’s mind.

‘So, what you said in there, did you mean it?’

‘Mmmm,’ Dean began working down Castiel’s neck, and his eyes fluttered even as the thought of the bruises resurfaced. One time, he was going to tell Dean just how much he hated it when Dean made that sound instead of giving a definitive response.

‘Are you going to let me top?’

Dean cleared his throat loudly. Or at least, that’s what Castiel thought. But as soon as he heard the noise, Dean left his neck alone, and turned to look back the way they had come. Castiel turned his head slowly, knowing already who must have cleared their throat, and what they must have heard. Sam was folding his arms, glaring at them both.

‘Dean,’ he sounded quiet, as though he was forcing himself to remain calm.

‘Yeah, um, just about to bring it up,’ Dean was flustered in comparison to his brother. Castiel wondered if it was because of the mention of topping, right in front of Sam, but Dean didn’t move away either. Instead, he looked steadily into Castiel’s eyes, licking his own lips this time, out of habit rather than anything seductive. ‘Cas, we’re um, we’re going to go pack a bag, go away for a few days, okay? Just you and me.’

Castiel nodded, and he looked back to Sam, who was watching them both carefully.

‘You gonna go pack now, right Dean?’ Sam said pointedly. Dean rested his head against Castiel’s for a moment, before he forced himself away, already moving down the hallway. Castiel watched him go, his whole being aching for the man who was walking away from him. He took a step, intending to go after Dean, when Sam cleared his throat again. Castiel looked back, his body turned away from Sam so that the taller hunter couldn’t see the bulge in his pants. ‘Cas, a word?’

‘Sure. Any time, Sam.’ Castiel forced a smile.

‘You’re not going to tell Dean,’ Sam warned him.

‘I promised Dean no more secrets and no more lies, Sam. I have to tell him.’

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, scraping it back behind his ears.

‘Look, Dean already sort of knows, we talked about it. I just want to prepare you, because he’s still going to get mad, even though he knows it’s coming. I just don’t want him to know we talked about it, okay?’

Castiel felt torn, and Sam took advantage of his indecision.

‘I might be moving out with Becky soon, okay? This week away with him - and it is going to be a week - is a trial for that. I just want your promise that you’re not going to hurt my brother again. I want to know he’s in safe hands with you. That you’re not going to screw him over-‘

‘Sam,’ Castiel moved slowly towards his surrogate brother, looking up at him with concern. ‘I know I’ve behaved appallingly and made you believe I would hurt Dean, but please believe me when I say that was never my intention. I was misguided, but he’s helped me understand a few things now that I didn’t at the start of our relationship and now that I can see things for how they are, I know how wrong I was. Believe me, I know I haven’t even begun to make this up to him.’

Sam nodded slowly.

‘Okay. And Cas?’ He smiled weakly. ‘Enjoy your week away. Even if Dean doesn’t let you top.’

Sam walked away, as his last words sank in. Sam had definitely heard that comment, and he felt a strange sense of shame. It was as though the younger hunter was judging him, like Sam knew exactly what he had meant. Castiel hurried back to Dean’s bedroom, where his boyfriend was shoving a pile of flannel into a duffel bag.

‘So, where do you wanna go?’ Dean began piling denim into the bag as well. ‘I was thinking a beach, maybe? Head down to Mexico?’

‘I don’t think I would enjoy Mexico.’

‘Okay. Name a place, Cas.’

Castiel watched as Dean continued packing the bag, crossing the room to go into his underwear drawer, pulling out the clothes that Meg had stolen for Castiel. He noticed, but knew it was best not to comment. Dean still seemed fractious about Meg. Instead, Castiel thought about where he would most want to spend time with his boyfriend. Ideally, he’d suggest his spot in Nepal, but that was impossible now. Still, he found himself describing something very much like it.

‘Somewhere secluded, so it’s just us. Somewhere nearly untouched by humans. Somewhere …’

‘How about,’ Dean stopped packing to turn and slide his hands along Castiel’s hips. ‘A lakehouse somewhere. We’ll get a private beach, rent a place. We’ll catch fish, grill it for dinner. The works.’

Castiel smiled slowly, curling his fingers around Dean’s wrists.

‘That sounds perf … that sound great, Dean.’

Dean laughed, and Castiel was relieved that he at least wasn’t upset by the slip.

‘Good. Oh, um, hey, don’t feel too bad about Sam. He’s got a stick up his ass about something. We’ll enjoy ourselves and get back on track, and he can calm the hell down with Becky.’

Castiel nodded, accepting a kiss from Dean before the hunter picked up the duffel and hoisted over his shoulder, flashing him a grin.

‘Let’s go, babe.’


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Castiel finally get some alone time. In a cabin. In Wisconsin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the last official chapter! Although there is an epilogue. And a sequel. I'm not ready to let this go yet.

Castiel sat quietly in the Impala as Dean wound his way across country to their destination. He was still amazed by the speed with which Dean had organised everything after they had agreed to go away together, and yet he felt a sense of disappointment. He wanted to show Dean all the things he had promised, that time they were laying in bed and Dean was asking him exactly what he wanted. The first time Castiel really thought there could have been more than just one date. He found himself gazing at the trees flickering by as he imagined Dean’s reaction if he took him to the mountainside, and showed him the sheer drop underneath the narrow plinth he liked to sit on. He wished that he could have done it, regardless of whether he still had his grace, but he knew it was impossible. The grace was the only way to access the place, it was simply too dangerous for humans to even try to go there-

‘Cas? You okay?’

Dean finally broke the silence with the tentative question. Could he feel Castiel’s lament?

‘I’m fine, Dean,’ he lied.

‘Sorry it’s Wisconsin.’

‘Its fine.’

Castiel didn’t quite know why Dean was apologising for selecting a place in Wisconsin. He knew deep down that it really didn’t matter where they were, so long as they were together, alone. And if they couldn’t leave America and visit Nepal, it really didn’t matter. Yet he still longed to go there, to squeeze onto that narrow rut with Dean and look out at the vast expanse of untouched earth-

‘Well, you looked like you had a place when I asked, but you didn’t say anything. We could always go there? I’ll cancel.’

Castiel closed his eyes, just for a moment. Dean was beyond sweet, offering to change their plans to satisfy him. But it made it so much harder to deal with.

‘We can’t go there.’

He knew his emotion was evident in his voice. He was careful not to look anywhere near Dean, or he would start crying, and Dean would become frustrated, and he was so hopeful for their week away. Dean wasn’t letting it go, however.

‘Come on Cas, the deal is that we talk. Tell me about this place.’

Castiel sat back in his seat, feeling defeated. Dean was of course correct. They had agreed to discuss things more thoroughly, to avoid any misunderstanding. But this wasn’t over a misunderstanding, it was something unattainable. He knew that Dean wouldn’t let the matter drop just like that.

‘It’s in Nepal, and hard to reach. At least, for humans, it’s hard to reach. And I don’t have a passport, you don’t enjoy flying. It’s just not possible.’

He could feel a lump in his throat as he spoke, could feel an irritating, prickling sensation in his eyes. And Dean’s next response did not help that feeling in anyway.

‘Do you miss your grace?’

Castiel worked on not crying, and Dean seemed to be happy to wait patiently for an answer. Maybe he knew that it was complicated, or thought that Castiel would want to soften the blow when he confessed that he truly missed it. Dean had to know the truth, that Castiel’s grace came second to him, every single time. He answered when he was ready, his voice shaking slightly despite his best efforts.

‘I miss some things. Being a human is tiring and dirty. I don’t like having to constantly eat and silence my stomach, or urinate as frequently as my vessel demands. But,’ he looked at Dean, whose gaze was flickering between the road and Castiel. He forced a smile onto his face, so that his boyfriend would know he genuinely meant it. ‘I made the right choice, Dean. I’ll take whatever comes of being human, so long as I’m with you.’

‘You can’t get rid of me now.’

Dean smiled, and Castiel was baffled by how easily he seemed to say things like that, suddenly. Dean who was verbally constipated, Dean who only admitted to loving him when their situation seemed irredeemable. He moved closer to the hunter, sliding across the leather upholstery.

‘This week will be nice,’ he declared, trying to make the effort to be more positive. After all, they had a long stretch of time to be intimate. Longer, if Sam carried out his threat. ‘We can kiss and not get interrupted all the time.’

‘We can fuck and not hear Sam bitching about how loud you are.’ Dean nodded. Castiel fought the urge to look around, in case they were overheard. It seemed novel, being able to discuss their sex life at normal volume without fear of someone making derisive comments. Castiel felt emboldened by that fact, enough to join in.

‘Well, that’s your fault. Is that why you gagged me last time?’

Dean didn’t seem at all affected by Castiel’s attempts to be casual.

‘A little. Sometimes, you only start talking when we’re fooling around. And why is it my fault that you’re so loud?’

Castiel felt a little non-plussed by Dean’s accusation. He felt as though he talked a lot, regardless of the impending intercourse. But Dean’s question made him genuinely smile, and gave him the opportunity to practice flirting.

‘Because you’re so good.’

‘Okay. I totally accept the blame on that one. But this week, you can be as loud as you want.’

Dean was grinning, enjoying the flirting. And not making a point of Castiel’s clumsy attempts, which spurred the ex-angel on.

‘I’ll be as loud as you make me.’

‘I’ll accept the challenge.’

Castiel smiled again, and returned his gaze to the window. If this was a sign of things to come, Castiel couldn’t have been happier. He had a man he loved, who loved him back, and they finally seemed to be thinking the same way. He was happy with the prospect, but couldn’t escape the one shadow that felt as though it lurked over them. He knew bringing it up would sour the mood, but he wanted to dispel it as quickly as possible, so that they could enjoy their time together.

‘Dean, what if … what if we have longer than a week for all these things? What if today is just the start of us having that time together, alone?’

Dean’s smile tightened, and Castiel instantly regretted saying anything. After all, Sam hadn’t totally been sure, had he? He was reticent about leaving his brother with the ex-angel.

‘This week is meant to be a trial thing. So Sam and Becky can have some alone time. They’re not moving out. Not yet. And we get to have fun in the mean time.’

Castiel didn’t respond. He looked out of the window without truly seeing the scenery, trying to think of how to discuss this with Dean. Obviously, the hunter was still in denial about his brother’s plans.

‘Cas-‘ Dean said weakly, and Castiel was prompted into speaking his mind.

‘He seemed fairly certain. Yes he said it was a trial, but he said he was moving out with her soon as well. I don’t know, it was a feeling I got from him, that he’d already decided to move out. It’s just a question of when.’

‘He promised he wouldn’t.’ Dean pressed on belligerently. Castiel had his misgivings about bringing up the topic, but he knew they couldn’t bury it now. Could he admit to Dean that he was the element of doubt for Sam? That if the younger hunter knew that Castiel was truly trustworthy, he would be out already? He didn’t know how Dean would react to that. He didn’t want to spin it so that Sam sounded unreasonable, but he knew it would come across that way while he avoided that topic.

‘He asked me not to tell you. That’s what makes me think he’s serious.’

‘Why did you tell me then? If you’re not meant to?’ Dean sounded petulant, and Castiel felt the strain of tension. He reminded himself that it was better to get it all out into the open and then move forward.

‘I’m trying Dean, to make the effort. You want us to talk, you want me not to keep things from you. I think this quantifies as something I should tell you.’

‘It is. Sorry, Cas.’

‘I know,’ he reached across the leather to take Dean’s hand, their fingers weaving together around the steering wheel. ‘I know you’re not mad at me. Did you want to turn around, go back and talk to him?’

Castiel watched as Dean set his gaze firmly on the road in front of him, his nostrils flaring slightly, his jaw set as he considered Castiel’s offer. It had been genuine. He knew that Dean wanted to be with him now, knew that they were a couple in all the ways that mattered. Of course, he was looking forward to their alone time but it wasn’t essential, not if Dean was going to be upset over his brother the entire time. Castiel purely, simply, wanted the hunter to be happy. Eventually, Dean spoke again, his voice shaking as he tried to suppress his emotions.

‘No. Besides, we’re nearly there now.’

‘Okay. We can call him once we’re settled in, maybe?’ Castiel offered, trying to appease his lover. He wasn’t sure what had made Dean pick him over his brother, but he knew that he couldn’t take Sam out of the picture entirely. Their relationship was a complicated one that Castiel had only really scratched the surface on. He only knew that for Dean, Sam came first. He was flattered by Dean’s decision.

‘Cas?’ Dean said abruptly.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m … thanks.’

Castiel squeezed his fingers, and Dean squeezed back, the sensation almost painful. Castiel didn’t bring up that Dean was hardly articulate, or that there was a hypocrisy in the notion that he wanted Castiel to talk and was unable to do so himself. He knew that the words just weren’t coming to the hunter. And he knew what the words were anyway.

 

*

Castiel waited patiently in the car while Dean sorted out their accommodation in the reception area, his thoughts stuck on Sam Winchester. He felt responsible for Sam’s decision, not necessarily because of how he and Dean conducted themselves in their relationship, but because he felt that Sam’s decision was a product of Dean’s neglect. Castiel had taken up so much of the hunter’s attention, no wonder his brother was feeling isolated. No wonder Sam was turning to the person filling Dean’s void.

Dean climbed back into the car and drove along a dirt path, through a glade of trees, and Castiel looked around, appreciating how close this location was to what they had been discussing. So it wasn’t his favourite mountainside location, they could still feel alone, cut off from society, in their own small bubble. When Dean parked the car, they both stayed in their seats for a few moments, surveying the two-storey cabin, the small beach and jetty that was just visible from their parking spot, and the lake that seemed to stretch out into a distant hill range. And then Dean seemed to rouse himself, and climb out of the car, and Castiel felt obligated to follow.

Castiel was surprised by the decor in the cabin, at how light and open it all felt, but Dean seemed not to notice as he threw their bag down beside a chair, striding across the thick carpet, and turning around in the middle of the couches. Castiel watched his lover intently, cocking his head to the side almost without realising he’d done it. Dean looked back quietly for a few seconds that seemed to last forever, and Castiel felt a pull in his chest. He missed being able to just look at Dean like this, communicating just with eye contact. It was as special to him as when they kissed. And there was something in the hunter’s eyes that let him know the feeling was mutual.

‘Pretty sweet digs, right?’ Dean smiled. Castiel nodded, his throat too dry for him to respond. His chest was close to bursting with love for the man in front of him, and Dean seemed to notice. ‘Everything okay?’

‘Yes,’ Castiel pulled himself together enough to answer, and then decided to hit the biggest issue head on. ‘Are you going to call Sam now?’

‘In a while. I’m hungry, are you?’

Castiel ignored the bluster, and the change of subject. He was still concerned about Dean, and the way he was going to handle Sam leaving. The worst outcome would be that the brothers stopped talking, and Castiel would be left trying to encourage Dean to talk to his brother once again without being allowed to utter his name. It wasn’t an impossible notion, and it made Castiel uneasy. Would either of them blame him if they did stop talking?

Dean turned away, heading into the kitchen and pulling open cupboard doors, removing various packages from inside them. Castiel realised that Dean was going to be his usual belligerent self, and ignore the topic in favour of a distraction. In this case, food. Castiel conceded that it had been a long time since they had last eaten, and whatever meal Dean was preparing would be very welcome. And Dean seemed at peace as he stirred something in a pot on the stove, Castiel couldn’t resist approaching him, slipping his arms around his lover, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. He could remember dreaming of the day he would be allowed to do this, to touch the hunter tenderly, affectionately. He had never imagined how comfortable it would feel, how routine. And yet, despite that, it felt as though they had been this way for years. It was as though the unrequited longing was in a very distant past that had no more meaning.

‘I could get used to this,’ Dean commented, still stirring the pan. He seemed to be content, but Castiel was sure it was a farce. He tried to tread lightly.

‘It’s very domestic.’

‘Is that a bad thing?’ Dean noticed his slightly dour tone, and Castiel tried to sound happier in response.

‘No.’

‘What’s up with you, anyway? I thought you’d be excited to get here. Stop worrying about Sam, I’ll talk to him, he’ll come around.’

Castiel wanted to believe that Dean meant the words, but he knew his boyfriend far too well. It was a mask of bravado, hiding his upset and anger over losing a piece of his brother. And more than that, since they had stepped into the house, Castiel had a strange sense of deja vu that he was trying to process. He attempted to answer Dean as sensitively as he could.

‘I know you will. And I’m happy to be here,’ he tightened his hold on Dean momentarily. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Cas-‘

‘You wouldn’t want me to talk about it, Dean.’ Castiel felt exhausted by trying to tread carefully. And this was, in his opinion, an issue between them. He’d felt Dean shut down the conversation before, and the hunter had said Castiel should express himself more often. Maybe, he considered, the time was right to at least bring up this one bone of contention.

‘Cas, we’re meant to be talking more. Right?’ Dean echoed his own thoughts, and that was the final piece of motivation that Castiel needed. He could make his point, and hope that Dean understood what he was trying to convey. He focused on the bubbling pot in front of them.

‘If I said everything I was thinking, you’d be perpetually mad. Or worse, you’d shut it down.’

Dean turned his head, trying to make eye contact, and Castiel continued to watch the sauce react to the heat underneath. He was hoping to avoid an argument.

‘Try me.’

Dean’s tone was gentle, one Castiel recognised as empathetic. He continued avoiding Dean’s eye contact, cleared his throat, and took his boyfriend up on the offer. At least, to an extent, to see how much Dean truly meant that.

‘It reminds me of our house, this place. Of the one you convinced me to leave. You were cooking for us then as well. And Sam lived with Becky, they had two little girls, remember?’

He knew that he wasn’t expressing himself well. And with voicing the unrest came another wave of deja vu. It wasn’t just the furnishings that felt reminiscent of the house he had created, there were other elements. Dean cooking at the stove, the intimate discussion as he made their meal. They were even standing in the same way. Castiel was afraid to look in the refrigerator and find wine. And Dean couldn’t possibly have known about these details, because he had so far refused to discuss that place. The more that Castiel acknowledged the similarities, the more he wished he’d continued trying to discuss Sam.

‘So what, this is what it looked like beyond the front passageway?’

Castiel heard the strain in Dean’s voice, as he tried to relate. He knew that Dean was still trying to avoid whatever had gone on in Castiel’s head.

‘No, but it felt like this place.’

He knew he wasn’t explaining himself well at all. How did humans do it? How did they just know what they were thinking and feeling and express it in words?

‘Did I make you mac and cheese then too?’

Castiel was surprised that Dean was engaging in the conversation. And though he knew it meant the hunter was trying to prove a point, that he could discuss these things despite his reticence, Castiel was grateful. So grateful that he began to let his guard down. After all, this was their romantic weekend away, they were meant to be confessing their thoughts.

‘No. Thai green curry. From scratch.’

He kissed Dean’s shoulder, glad his lover was being so calm. Maybe it was a good thing that Castiel hadn’t mentioned his brother.

‘Dream me was showing off. I can’t make that, Cas.’

Castiel even managed to smile at that comment. Dean seemed okay with discussing the fantasy, or dream, or whatever it had been. Maybe he was trying to understand Castiel better.

‘It’s okay. That wasn’t the point. You made me get your beer out the refrigerator.’

Castiel felt Dean’s face move, and he knew the hunter was smiling too. This was what he wanted for the entire week, these confessions and bonding moments and tender touches-

‘Dream me had a good idea. I didn’t check for beer.’

Castiel kissed his shoulder, and let go of his waist, crossing the room to the chiller, which he pulled open slowly, still anticipating the bottle of wine. Fortunately, he couldn’t see any in there, though there was a six-pack of beer. He pulled two bottles out, and passed them both to Dean, who left the stove alone to open them up with a gadget set in the wall. He passed a bottle back to Castiel wordlessly, and the ex-angel sat down on a stool by the breakfast bar, overwhelmed once again by the sense of deja vu. Dean returned to cooking, and Castiel absent-mindedly lifted the bottle to his mouth, trying to drink the beer the same way that Dean did. The taste was bitter, stronger than Castiel had been anticipating, and he swallowed a wince before his boyfriend could notice the expression on his face.

Dean distributed the vivid yellow gloop into two bowls and slid one across to Castiel, before digging his phone out of his pocket, and pressing the screen. Castiel stuck a fork into the sauce-covered noodles, feeling a little grateful for the distraction. It was a normal thing, for Dean to answer his cell phone, and it certainly hadn’t happened in Castiel’s fantasy. He gingerly bit down on a few noodles, and his tastebuds were flooded with an intense cheese flavouring that wasn’t unpleasant.

‘How’s the moving out going?’ Dean broke the silence with his petulant tone. Castiel glanced up at his boyfriend, studying his face. Dean was grimacing, and Castiel assumed that Sam was talking quickly, trying to appease his brother. Dean continued to be abrupt. ‘Put it on video call.’

After a moment, Castiel could hear a tinny version of Sam’s voice, amplified slightly by the change in the phone call. He tried not to marvel at the things humans could achieve, not while Sam and Dean were both gearing up for an intense conversation. Instead, he did the sensible thing, and focused on the bowl of deliciousness that Dean had made him.

‘Okay. Dean? You might wanna move your phone from your ear.’

Castiel may have been trying to stay out of the conversation, but he could still hear every word. He planned to listen carefully, and whatever the outcome, work on making Dean feel happier.

‘Where are you?’ Dean was asking his phone screen.

‘At dinner with Charlie and Becky. We’re taking Charlie home. They’re just using the restroom so I thought I’d check in with you, if you weren’t sucking face with Cas anyway.’

Sam sounded fairly happy, and Castiel wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not. He made himself sip some more beer, and chased it up quickly with another mouthful of mac and cheese, as Dean replied to his brother.

‘We’re eating too.’

‘Hey Cas.’

Castiel looked up, and saw Dean’s arm extended, the phone in his grasp, and Sam smiling at him from the handset. He looked quickly at Dean, and the resigned expression on the hunter’s face, before turning back to the phone.

‘Hello, Sam.’

Dean withdrew his arm, and turned the screen back to himself, cutting off Castiel’s chance for a chat with Sam. Castiel understood that Dean wanted this conversation to very much be between the brothers. He continued to pretend to concentrate on his meal, while listening to them both as much as he could.

‘See? We have self-control.’ Dean’s voice oozed with attitude, and Castiel couldn’t help himself.

‘One of us does.’

He took another mouthful of beer, and winced again. Dean caught his expression, this time.

‘If you don’t like it, Cas, don’t drink it. And what does that mean?’

Castiel could hear Sam chuckling, but he focused on the beautiful man in front of him. Was it not obvious to Dean? Castiel had withstood his emotions for years before he finally acted, and Dean was suddenly the one with the wandering hands. He shrugged as he stated the obvious.

‘It means I can restrain myself.’

‘Sure, Cas.’

Dean rolled his eyes, as though he didn’t believe him. Okay, Castiel had introduced the experimental element to their love-making, but otherwise he had been the one asking Dean to stall, to wait. He knew it was important for the hunter to talk with his brother, but Castiel wanted to make a point, so he climbed off his seat, and walked around the breakfast bar until he stood beside Dean, leaning close so that they were almost touching. He could feel his boyfriend’s body heat, could sense the tension building. But he directed his gaze to the screen, which still showed Sam’s face. Sam was once again laughing, and Dean responded to his brother, his voice catching as he spoke.

‘Seriously, Sam, are you moving out?’

Sam sobered up, as Becky appeared behind him, slipping her arms around his neck and beaming at her boyfriend.

‘So you told him!’

As Sam turned to look at Becky, to shoot her a warning look that told Castiel far too much about the state of Sam’s thinking, Dean quickly kissed Castiel’s cheek. He felt himself smirk, full of self-righteousness, and knew he didn’t have to say anything more on that issue. Dean would already be kicking himself for letting someone else be in the right. He blustered over the moment by referring back to the phone call, and the real issue at hand.

‘We guessed, Becky.’

She pursed her lips at the screen, and Sam looked resigned. Castiel continued letting them talk it through, knowing it was important to Dean to do so.

‘We have talked about it, Dean.’ Sam’s tone was as close to agitation as the taller hunter could get while still remaining polite. Clearly, this was going to be a bone of contention between the two of them that resonated deeper than most people would comprehend. Castiel supposed it had something to do with Dean feeling like Sam’s other parent, and Sam wanting his independence, which had been a theme when Castiel had met them both. He supposed it went in a cycle.

‘We talked about it as a maybe, you said you’d hold fire. I knew it, you always have to sneak off, or run away.’

‘Dean,’ Sam sounded strained, and then his eyes flickered to the corner of the screen. ‘Cas? Can you please just talk to him?’

Dean hit the end call button, and flicked his wrist, so that the phone tumbled across the counter top. Castiel stayed exactly where he was, unsure if Dean would want reassurance, or else would want to vent his frustration. But Dean seemed incapable of doing either, and eventually, Castiel put a hand on his shoulder, hoping that he would at least unfreeze from his position. Dean immediately wrapped his arms around his chest, cuddling in close, nuzzling into Castiel’s chest. And what else could he do but hold his boyfriend in return, leaning down and touching their heads together, stroking Dean’s hair in an attempt to be soothing. Castiel wasn’t sure why Sam’s appeal had caused such a negative reaction, but he supposed that it didn’t matter. Dean was in pain, and finding it hard to deal with losing his brother, and Castiel’s role was to be there for Dean. He needed to reassure Dean that he wasn’t alone, that they were a team and Sam wasn’t trying to fight. Maybe Sam just didn’t see the situation in the same way that Dean did.

‘At least I have you,’ Dean mumbled into Castiel’s chest. He knew it wasn’t intended as an insult.

‘You’ll always have me, Dean.’

Dean planted a kiss on his chest, and Castiel continued to run his fingers through the hunter’s hair, knowing that he had to offer his boyfriend the option to talk to his brother face-to-face, and appeal to Sam’s better nature.

‘We can cut this trip short if you want to, Dean. We could go over to Becky’s house and plead with him to reconsider-‘

‘No.’ Dean sat back, looking up into Castiel’s face, and the ex-angel fought the urge to caress his face. ‘Sam’s made his choice. And we need this. Look, we’ll finish eating, I’ll make sure we’re totally warded in here, and then I just need like, five minutes driving time to myself, okay? And then when I come back, it’s all about us, no worrying about my brother or anything else for the entire time we’re here.’

Castiel didn’t even consider arguing with Dean, as much as he was worried about his boyfriend going out alone. He knew that he had to let Dean process it in his own way, and if that meant letting him drive away for a portion of the evening, Castiel was going to have to accept that. He pressed his lips against Dean’s forehead, hoping that his lover understood exactly what he was trying to convey, and then he walked back across the kitchen, to his now-cold food. Despite having no more appetite, he made himself eat the rest of the dish, and drain the rest of the sour-tasting beer. He couldn’t help himself from watching the man he loved, as Dean shovelled his own meal in, before grabbing his car keys and heading for the door.

Castiel listened, and heard the faint hiss of a spray can working on the outside of the house, before the familiar roar of the Impala starting up rent the air, and Castiel was left alone. He tapped the table as he thought, and then decided to do something that might make Dean at least a little happier. He gathered together all the dishes, and set about washing them, drying them, and replacing them in the cupboards.

He then walked around the main room of the cabin, and gravitated towards the bookshelves. He ran his fingers along the broken spines, and pulled a book out at random, grabbing the throw from the couch and settling in the armchair. He wrapped the throw around his shoulders, and pulled his knees to his chest as he began to read, absorbing himself in the book to try and distract himself from worrying about Dean.

He lost track of time as he read the book, which seemed to be discussing stories within the bible and was actually fairly interesting. He was already on chapter four when he realised that he wasn’t alone, someone was standing nearby, observing him. He looked up slowly, and saw Dean, looking wearier than ever. Castiel bit his lip, as he acknowledged that this too, was similar to his siren-induced fantasy. He had tried to read a book, and Dean had been demanding and attention-seeking. He looked at the book as he considered the difference between the fantasy of Dean and reality.

The reality was, real Dean needed the attention, he needed the reassurance that he was supposed to get from Castiel. But he just did not have the vocabulary to let his boyfriend know how vulnerable he was feeling. Castiel bit his lower lip as he closed the book, and moved it aside. And then his eyes were back on Dean, taking in the hunter, trying not to be overwhelmed by his personal epiphanies. This was what he had wanted, Dean relying on him, the two of them together no matter what challenges they faced. Dean showing him a side that no one else saw. He opened his arms, and the hunter crashed into them, hardly seeming to care if either of them were comfortable in their respective positions. Although Castiel wished he could unfurl his legs from their now-cramped position, he had no desire to reprimand Dean. Instead he wrapped the blanket around the broad shoulders of his boyfriend, and tucked himself into the curve of Dean’s neck and shoulder, one hand toying again with the short bristles of hair at the back of Dean’s neck. This time, he decided not to let the silence drag on, not if there was a chance that the love of his life would talk candidly through his vulnerability.

‘How was your drive?’

‘Okay. How’s the book?’

Castiel knew that Dean was trying to avoid the subject, but he let it slide. That was all part of it, wasn’t it? That he work around Dean’s limitations and Dean would make the effort. So he would play along, and try and ease the truth out of his boyfriend.

‘Interesting. It’s a take on the Bible I haven’t yet come across. I found it on the book shelf over there,’

Castiel indicated the bookshelf across the room, and Dean turned his head to look. Castiel assumed that things would be easier to discuss without eye contact.

‘Are you feeling better?’

Dean shrugged, and Castiel couldn’t resist touching his face, stroking it cautiously. He didn’t know what to say to make the hunter feel better, but he knew that this was probably the best way to communicate his compassion.

‘Cas? Are we still good?’ Dean muttered quietly. Castiel hadn’t expected it, didn’t know where Dean would think they were still having problems.

‘Of course we are. Why wouldn’t we be?’

‘Because you’re not pawing at me, demanding too much from me.’

Castiel kissed his temple fondly, trying to follow Dean’s logic. He reminded the hunter of their deal.

‘You asked me not to, Dean. I’m trying to respect your wishes.’

Dean looked back at him, and spoke quietly, not breaking eye contact.

‘You still love me?’

It was bold of Dean to speak so clearly about his emotional state, and Castiel understood straight away where the vulnerability was coming from. The hunter needed reassurance that Castiel wasn’t going to leave him also. He endeavoured to talk to Sam, to try and find some way of making the blow easier for his boyfriend. And in the mean time, he would make sure Dean felt treasured. He smiled, stroking Dean’s hair.

‘Nothing could stop me from loving you, Dean.’

Dean reached forward, kissing him abruptly, and Castiel kissed back, trying to tame the kiss, trying to make it more about that slow-burning sensation that Dean created than a short-living fire. They seemed at odds with each other, wrestling for their own agendas, and Castiel wondered why Dean was pushing for anything other than the love and acceptance that he was trying to convey. It was at total odds from their conversation also. He tried to give them the chance to pause, to regroup.

‘Maybe we should find the bed?’

Dean nodded, looping his fingers into Castiel’s waistband and standing up. Castiel moved willingly, the blanket they had been sharing falling to the floor. Dean picked a plastic bag up as they walked up the stairs together, heading into the first room and finding a huge bedroom, filled with a king-sized bed. Dean threw the bag inside, and returned his attentions to his boyfriend, pulling up at Castiel’s shirt, untucking it from the jeans he was wearing. Castiel let him remove the shirt, still dwelling on what could possibly be going through the hunters mind, even as Dean began to touch his chest and kiss his face, their lips almost glued together, and they resumed their silent fight from the living area. The power struggle as they both tried to dictate how this would go. Castiel just wanted to show that he loved the hunter, without it turning to sex. But Dean seemed determined to avoid his own emotions, and return to safe ground.

‘Do you want me, Cas?’ He eventually moaned.

‘Of course.’

They carried on kissing, Castiel still trying to be slow, and sweet, and sensual, and Dean still trying to shove his tongue down Castiel’s throat. He was once again toying with Dean’s hair, massaging Dean’s scalp in the way he liked the hunter doing to him, trying to use the same technique to make his boyfriend calm down, even as Dean’s fingers traced his chest. Dean was the one to break apart again, panting all the while.

‘Come on, Cas. Get in the mood.’

Castiel rested his forehead against Dean’s, his fingers still working his boyfriend’s scalp as he tried to understand what Dean meant. He was very much in the mood, in the one that Dean had been in before they began kissing. In the end, he decided that maybe the physical contact wasn’t appropriate. Not yet.

‘Dean, maybe this isn’t a good idea. You seem … we should talk.’

Dean didn’t respond, but from his controlled breathing, Castiel assumed that it was safe to continue.

‘You’re making me talk about things I’m uncomfortable with, it should work both ways. I know you use body language more, I understand that, but I think right now you need something other than sex.’

‘I think sex is exactly what I need.’ Dean responded immediately. Castiel let his hand caress down Dean’s head, along his neck, and then he stepped back, looking straight at the man he loved.

‘I understand, you know. What Sam means to you, how betrayed you feel about it all-‘

‘We agreed we weren’t going to talk about that when I got back.’

Dean’s tone was abrasive, and Castiel felt disappointed that Dean was shutting it down, despite all the signs pointing to the fact that the hunter needed _something_. He steeled himself to fight back.

‘I think we need to. I’m not going to leave you, Dean. I wouldn’t. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. And when you broke up with me and they took my grace? All I could think about was getting back to you. And Sam’s not trying to hurt you, either. I’m sure he thinks he’s doing us a favour, as well as helping himself. This is his solution to a lot of conflict.’

Dean started to hyperventilate, his eyes glazing over with tears, and Castiel stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the man he loved, rubbing his hands along Dean’s back, hoping that the gesture was a soothing one. At least, the hunter didn’t fight him, didn’t resist his touch.

‘It’ll be okay. You’ll see.’

He kissed Dean’s neck, and Dean leaned into him, letting Castiel practically hold him up. They stood together as Dean’s breathing slowly returned to normal, and he began to hold himself normally again. Castiel rested his head on the hunter’s shoulder, stroking his thumb across the top of his arm.

‘Let’s just go to bed,’ Dean broke the silence. Castiel nodded wordlessly, taking a few more moments to savour Dean’s touch before letting go, and surveying him quietly as the hunter stripped off and climbed into the bed. It was only then that Castiel shucked off his own jeans, and climbed into the bed too, wriggling over until he could wrap his arms around Dean. ‘Since when do we wear clothes in bed?’

It was a moment before Castiel realised that Dean was commenting on the underwear that the ex-angel was still wearing. He kissed Dean’s collarbone, and then reached down, pulling the elastic band down as he wriggled out of the material, and then tossed them aside.

‘Better?’

Dean nodded, and Castiel cuddled close again, hoping that Dean wouldn’t take the fact that they were both naked to pursue amorous activities once again. But he didn’t seem able to move, and Castiel once again took to running his fingertips across Dean’s scalp, as Dean closed his eyes and a small tear gathered in the corner of one eye. He lifted the ex-angel’s chin, and Castiel avoided his lips neatly, planting small kisses on the hunter’s fingertips instead, and trying once again to get through to him.

‘We have a whole week for that, Dean. Tonight, can we just enjoy this intimacy?’

Dean let the silence linger after Castiel’s words for a moment, and when he spoke it was with a grudging voice.

‘You owe me.’

‘Well, you owe me a top.’ Castiel replied simply.

‘Do I?’

‘You promised.’

Dean left another lingering pause.

‘I was trying to see if you were paying attention.’

‘It still counts.’

Castiel wasn’t trying to sound petulant, but he was aware he might have been coming across that way. And yet, despite that, he thought that Dean sounded more like himself than he had all night, more flirtatious and friendly. Castiel wanted to embrace that.

‘Nope, I said right then, at that moment. And you didn’t move.’

‘What would you have done if I had?’

There was another pause, and when Dean spoke again, there was a softness evident in his voice.

‘I would have tried. I don’t break promises, Cas.’

Castiel kissed Dean’s chest, rather than articulate just how touching it was that Dean thought that, even after everything. And then the hunter’s fingers were caressing his jawline, tilting his face upwards so that their lips could meet. This time, their kiss was mutual, that softness from Dean’s voice threading its way into the flow of their mouths, and the kisses that Castiel had tried for earlier now seemed so easy between them. He fell into the sensation, into the endless slow kisses, and the lazy way that Dean’s tongue grazed against his own. And then Dean was rolling on top of him, pressing down on him, and Castiel knew that the sweet innocence of their kisses were going to fade as Dean resumed his default setting.

‘Not tonight, Dean.’ He tried to be firm on the issue.

‘Don’t you love me any more?’

It was a cheap shot, and Dean had to know it. Nothing Castiel had done all evening indicated that there was anything less than affection for him. Hadn’t they both discussed before that sex didn’t equate to love? It was just a very pleasant part of it. He slid his hand to the back of Dean’s neck, and began to massage the skin there.

‘I love you very much and you know it. And you know I don’t think sex is love, so don’t even try that. I meant what I said, Dean, not tonight. I don’t think you could handle it tonight.’

Dean stroked his face wordlessly, his fingertips catching on Castiel’s lips, caressing his throat, grazing down Castiel’s chest, and the ex-angel caught him somewhere on his stomach, knowing full well what his boyfriend was planning.

‘Yes, I know, you can physically handle me. That’s not what I meant either. I don’t think you realise how much it showed on your face Dean. It’s all I’m going to be able to see.’

Dean sighed, looking resigned, and rolled away from Castiel, settling on the mattress where their bodies could no longer touch. But they were still holding hands, and Castiel took that as a good sign. He squeezed his boyfriend’s fingers gently.

‘I just don’t want either of us to regret anything.’

‘Mmmmm.’

It was not the time to bring up Castiel’s irritation with that sound. Instead, he decided that Dean was finally conceding to the idea that they would not be engaging in intercourse that night. He decided it was best to be wilfully ignorant.

‘Goodnight, Dean.’

He scooted over and rested on the hunter’s chest once more, and Dean tucked his chin on top of his head. Castiel took that to be a good sign, that Dean wasn’t mad despite the rebuff. He just hoped that the next day would be better, happier.

*

Castiel woke up to Dean stroking his arm, and kissing his forehead. He blinked a few times, as his eyes adjusted to the morning light, and he smiled to himself as he felt the tenderness of Dean’s touch. Maybe he had gotten through to the hunter that night. He hoped that this was the sign that the day - the week even - would go by smoother than the day before. That they would just indulge in each other, the way they had promised each other.

He didn’t want to break the moment, to have Dean stop caressing him. He knew that the hunter probably thought he could get away with being so sentimental because he believed Castiel was still asleep. But he had to move eventually, his body was starting to ache from laying in the same position all night. He fought off the urge to stretch.

‘Good morning, Dean.’

‘Morning, Cas.’

Dean sounded a lot more alert. How long had he been awake?

‘Are you feeling better this morning?’ Castiel tried to be careful about the subject. He didn’t want to make Dean more miserable, after all.

‘I’m good. Not as great as I could be, since my boyfriend wouldn’t do me last night.’

Castiel raised his head to look at Dean, and his boyfriend tucked his chin out of the way so they didn’t accidentally hit each other. Castiel narrowed his eyes, not appreciating Dean’s comment. He was trying to be a good boyfriend, and look out for his well being, and not use sex as a comfort. He truly believed that there was nothing wrong with that, but since Dean appeared to be in the mood to point score over their sex life, Castiel decided to stick to his own agenda.

‘I’m deciding to take it, from your crass analysis, that you’re more willing to let me top?’

Dean rolled his eyes.

‘You know what I mean.’

Castiel smirked, knowing that Dean wasn’t going to push the issue if that was going to be the argument. He changed the subject to safer ground.

‘Would you like some coffee?’

‘I’d like something hot and rich in me.’

Dean winked, grinning widely. Castiel had some idea that he was making a sexual reference, though he wasn’t sure what it was.

‘I’m temperate and have little money, so you can’t be referring to me, even if you were pretending to consider it.’ He sat up reluctantly, stroking Dean’s chest with his knuckle in an attempt to be endearing. ‘I’ll go and make us a coffee. You stay here.’

He planned to call Sam, and to discuss Dean’s reactions with the younger hunter. Not to guilt him, but to see if Sam had any suggestions to bring Dean out of his funk.

‘Actually, I think I’m going to grab a shower.’

Castiel felt relieved. A shower meant that Dean wouldn’t easily interrupt or overhear his conversation.

‘Fine. I’ll have a great image in my mind while I make your coffee.’

He smirked once more, and then climbed out of the bed, heading over to his discarded underwear. He had forgotten until that moment that they had left all their clothes in the main living space the night before. He hated having to wear the same underwear two days in a row, but he also hated the idea of walking through the house completely in the nude, no matter how remote the cabin was. He slipped out of the room, and headed towards the kitchen, filling the coffee machine and switching it to brew, and then finding his cell phone, which was buried in the discarded blanket from the night before. He hastily put the blanket back onto the sofa, and waited for the faint sound of the shower running to press Sam’s speed dial.

‘Hello?’ Sam sounded tired as he picked up his cell phone.

‘Sam? It’s Castiel.’

‘Yeah, hi.’

‘Is it okay to talk? About Dean?’

Sam sighed down the phone line, and Castiel could hear some scuffling sounds, before Sam finally spoke again.

‘I thought you weren’t keeping secrets from my brother any more?’

‘It’s not a secret, Sam. It’s a concern.’

‘Okay, shoot.’

‘He’s really not taken your news well. He seemed … last night he was … he wasn’t very _Dean_.’

Sam sighed again.

‘I got that when he hung up on me. Is he better this morning?’

‘It’s too early to tell. He keeps trying to sleep with me.’

‘Cas? He’s always trying to sleep with you.’

Castiel felt frustrated by Sam’s lack of compassion.

‘That’s not what I meant, Sam. It was like he was trying to avoid the real issue that was his feelings about you leaving by pretending they didn’t exist.’

’Sounds like normal Dean to me.’

‘Sam,’ Castiel was trying not to raise his voice, in case Dean overheard and came to see what the problem was.

‘Okay, okay. Look, it’s my brother. Just go with it, okay? If he wants to talk, he’ll talk. And probably when you’re not listening for it, so you’ll think he’s discussing what beer he’s feeling like and he’s actually talking about this. Just listen closely.’

’Thank you, Sam,’ Castiel felt relieved that Sam was finally taking him seriously.

‘It wasn’t an easy decision to make you know, Cas. I’m still not sure that this is a good idea. I mean, the moving in with Becky part is, but the leaving you alone with him part?’

‘I understand, Sam. I know I was wrong, I was just … I was scared he wouldn’t want me as well. He phrased it in a confusing way. But we understand each other now, even if I was an angel again, I wouldn’t do that to him.’

‘Well, there is that, I guess. You being human now. Cas, just enjoy your time with him, okay? If he wants to forget it to be- to do- you know, then let him. I mean, don’t you want all that stuff too?’

‘I want him happy, Sam,’ Castiel heard the water shut off. ‘I’d better go, he’s out of the shower.’

He ended the call before the taller hunter could reply, and stowed his cell phone in the bag of food Dean had bought the night before, then turned and began pouring the well-brewed coffee into two mugs.

‘Did you forget how to make it?’ Dean announced himself. Castiel looked up, trying not to appear guilty about having called Sam behind his brother’s back.

‘No. Becky showed me how, remember?’ He smiled, and then re-thought. Dean might be sensitive to the reason why Sam was deciding to leave.

‘It is okay to talk about Becky, isn’t it?’

Dean shrugged carelessly.

‘Why would it not be okay to talk about Becky?’

Castiel stopped pouring the coffee into the mugs, and leaned against the sideboard. He knew he should heed Sam’s advice, but it was difficult, when Dean was obviously covering his true feelings in this way.

‘Dean, please don’t bury your emotions about this. I know you and Sam are fiercely codependent and for you this feels like he’s leaving the nest. You can discuss this with me.’

Dean reached over and picked up one of the cups, sipping the black liquid, and leaning against the sideboard, looking at Castiel’s profile.

‘I’m not burying a thing. Sam and me are completely separate to what I think about Becky. She’s just, you know, his girlfriend.’

Castiel grabbed some milk out of the refrigerator, and poured it into his coffee, feeling disappointed that it wasn’t as frothy as the latte in his imagination, or even how Dean managed to achieve in the bunker. He made up for it by adding several spoonfuls of sugar to his coffee and stirring. All the while, he tried to think about the entire situation, about how he could possibly help his boyfriend come to terms with what had happened.

‘You’re going to be bouncing off the walls with that,’ Dean sounded conversational. Castiel looked at his boyfriend and took a large gulp, to see what he could possibly mean. When his body stayed rooted to the floor, he dismissed the comment.

‘It’ll be fine, Dean.’

‘Uh-huh.’

Castiel returned to the real agenda.

‘Do you want to talk about it? About Sam moving out?’

Dean closed the distance between them, holding Castiel around the waist and tugging him closer, pressing their bodies together. Castiel was cautious not to spill his drink over the hunter and burn him.

‘Nope. I want this week to be about us. We’ll worry about my brother when we’re back home, okay?’ Dean rubbed their noses together. ‘Come on, I’m meant to be making you scream louder than ever. Wasn’t that what we agreed on the way here?’

‘Dean-‘

‘Cas, please. I don’t want to spend the entire time we’re away repeating the same old conversation, knowing that Sam’s made his mind up. I want this to be about us. Don’t you want that? To find out what we’re meant to be like together when you don’t reset my memory every night?’

Castiel hated the bad taste that Dean’s words left in his mouth. Was that Dean’s agenda the whole time the night before? To truly prioritise him? And Dean made it sound so endearing, to get to know each other properly, to wake up each morning knowing exactly where they stood with each other, without having to fret about whether Dean remembered or whether Sam was going to blow it all for him. Like when they were at Becky’s house, and Castiel had avoided wiping Dean’s memory, and loved the direction their relationship had taken. He felt he had to at least point out that towards the end of it all, he had stopped removing the memories.

‘I never did it once we got to Becky’s house.’

‘Not my point, Cas.’ Dean nodded forward and caught his lips quickly. ‘My point is, we should be easy, this should be easy. But you’re always trying to overcomplicate it. Let things just happen.’

‘You’re the one trying to force sex here.’ Castiel sounded indignant.

‘Well, stop being so goddamn good looking and there won’t be a problem with that.’

Castiel smiled despite himself, and took the opportunity in Dean’s flirting to reach forward himself, kissing the hunter, leaning into him. Their mouths danced together, tongues sliding together, and just as Castiel was about to melt fulling into his boyfriend, he realised he was close to scalding the hunter. He pulled away reluctantly.

‘I don’t want to spill the coffee,’ he took a gulp, trying to drain his mug, and Dean took a pull from his own cup, his fingers now grazing along Castiel’s back as he turned and surveyed the cabin. And then he was letting go of Castiel, heading across the kitchen, and the living space, and out onto the raised porch. Castiel appreciated the way the towel clung to Dean’s taut muscles, before he was following him outside, intrigued by what had caught his boyfriend’s attention.

Dean had made his way to the corner of the porch, where he was removing a tarpaulin from a large square bath, more complicated than any Castiel had seen in any motel bathroom. And why was it outside? Castiel was about to ask, when he noticed the scenery beyond the giant bath, and the railing around the porch. There was a thicket of trees around most of the porch, which parted to show a small vista of the lake, and hills that appeared purple, they were so far away. They really were secluded.

‘It’s beautiful out here,’ He murmured. ‘Don’t you think so?’

‘Mmmmmm, sure. Wanna try out the hot tub?’

Dean turned, a boyish smile on his face. Castiel merely sighed, and shook his head. Dean really hadn’t noticed their surroundings, had he? The way the leaves on the nearest tree almost made a canopy over the hot tub, the way the sunlight glinted through the gaps in the leaves and somehow made them seem greener. They almost matched Dean’s eyes. But no, Dean only had his sights on the tub.

‘You’re incorrigible.’

‘I don’t hear you encouraging me.’

Castiel sighed again, as Dean pressed a button and the tub roared to life, humming loudly as the water pulsed through the tub in a system that seemed too complicated for Castiel right then. Particularly as Dean had removed his towel and the ex-angel was treated to the sight of his naked boyfriend for a few seconds before he was submerged in the water. Castiel watched, setting his coffee mug down next to Dean’s as the hunter closed his eyes and leaned back in the water, the surface full of small eruptions as steam began to rise from the surface. He forgot about everything except the sight of Dean’s skin, bobbing up in the water, looking so tempting. He stepped closer, until he was against the side of the tub, and then he reached out, caressing Dean’s cheeks, his throat, the laughter lines by his mouth. And then he kissed the hunter’s forehead.

‘Hey.’ Dean sounded happy, almost dreamy.

‘Hello, Dean.’

‘You know, I bet the view of the lake looks even better from in here.’

‘I suppose it might,’ Castiel loved the idea of climbing in with Dean, but he wasn’t going to make it so easy for his boyfriend. He ran his hands back down his lover’s throat, and onto his chest, feeling the warm water lapping at his palms. ‘The view of you would change, however.’

‘Are you perving on me?’ Dean laughed, and Castiel reached down to kiss the tip of his nose.

‘You seem determined to make me.’

‘Honestly, as soon as I saw the hot tub, All I could think was getting in the hot tub. You should get in the hot tub.’

Castiel doubted that very much. Dean was like a dog on heat.

‘If I get in, will you stop saying hot tub?’

‘I promise nothing.’ Dean smiled playfully, and grabbed hold of Castiel’s hand, twining their fingers together in the water. ‘Are you getting in?’

Castiel sighed once more, smiling himself where Dean’s grin was infectious. He bent down and kissed his boyfriend passionately. Dean raised a dripping wet hand, and rubbed the back of Castiel’s neck, trying to force Castiel closer into the tub. He broke the kiss, laughing himself. Maybe it was easy to put everything aside and just enjoy his time with Dean.

‘Fine, I concede. You’re insatiable.’ He grinned, and bent down again to kiss Dean, shifting the hunter along so that he could reasonably have his tongue in his boyfriend’s mouth and reach down to remove his underwear. Dean stopped their kiss this time, twisting around in the water and giving Castiel a view of his sculpted behind. He kicked off the underwear, and tried to navigate how to get into the tub. Dean submerged as he tried unsuccessfully to clamber up the sides of the tub, and after a few attempts, he admitted defeat. ‘Dean, would you please help me?’

‘Sure,’ Dean scooted closer, and put his hands either side of Castiel’s rib cage, tugging him closer as he scrambled up once more. But Dean had used too much force, or else he had slipped on the bottom of the tub, and Castiel went crashing down onto his boyfriend, and he began laughing just before they were fully submerged. Castiel managed to hold onto a small mouthful of air as his body fell below the surface and slammed against Dean.

He was the first to recover, pulling himself up to a standing position, and then retrieving Dean, who coughed and spluttered from the water he must have swallowed as he began to laugh.

‘That wasn’t the most graceful entry.’ He noted when Dean seemed to be over the worst of it.

‘That’s what she said.’

‘Who?’

‘I … never mind. Hi.’ Dean wrapped his arms around his lover affectionately, kissing him deeply, and Castiel allowed it to happen, revelling in Dean’s attention. ‘Welcome to the hot tub.’

‘It’s pleasant,’ Castiel noted, before deciding to repay Dean a little for nearly drowning them both, and splashed him. Dean’s only reaction was to hold him closer, unbothered by the small spray from Castiel’s attempt.

‘Hold your breath.’ He muttered.

‘Why?’

‘Just do it. Trust me.’

Castiel looked at his boyfriend for a moment, feeling wrong-footed that Dean was asking him for trust, before he did as he was told and pulled in a large breath. Dean pressed their mouths together, and pulled him back under the water. Castiel clung to him, even as their mouths parted to allow their tongues to move together, and he was frightened by how quickly his air supply seemed to run out. He pulled up, back out of the water, and Dean came with him, leaving him only a moment to gasp for air before they were kissing again, the way that Dean had been pushing for the previous evening; hot, and heavy, and full of passion, sloppy yet fiery.  
Dean started walking towards the edge of the tub, behind Castiel, pressing down on him until he was sitting on the small ridge that ran just under the surface, creating a bench that he ended up folding onto. Dean straddled him immediately, gripping his shoulders so that he had no choice in the matter. He slid his own hands down until the were on Dean’s backside, where his fingers sank into the taut muscle.

Finally, Dean came up for air again, and Castiel took advantage of the brief respite.

‘I think I like the hot tub,’ he whispered and dug his fingers deeper into Dean’s flesh. His boyfriend’s response was to smirk.

‘How much do you like the hot tub?’

‘Enough to cave.’

Dean’s smile grew, and he knew exactly what Castiel meant. Of course he did, sex was one of his main settings. Castiel removed a hand from that firm backside to splash him once again. Dean’s response was to resume kissing, grabbing him roughly by the back of the neck to deepen the kiss further. Castiel went right back to holding Dean’s backside, feeling good about the status of their relationship once again. Dean’s hands began to wander, first stroking Castiel’s chest, then his stomach, echoing the progress from the night before also. This time, Castiel didn’t fight it, instead he found himself moaning into Dean’s mouth.

‘Cas?’ Dean murmured. ‘Cas, I trust you.’

Castiel found himself smiling as they continued making out, but it seemed that Dean had other things on his mind, as he broke off the kiss once more, his fingers busy around Castiel’s penis.

‘I trust you, Cas,’ he repeated, once they made eye contact again. And then Dean was shifting his position, still stroking Castiel’s genitals, and began kissing him once more. He finally stopped moving, and lowered himself slowly onto Castiel, who almost broke away from his lips in shock. He would have done, if Dean wasn’t gripping his neck so hard. His senses caught up with him quickly, and he realised that the hunter needed to maintain some control if they were going to sleep together in this way.  
So many things began running through his mind, even as their bodies worked together, Castiel doing his best to make Dean feel half the things he usually felt during their intimate moments. He wondered if Dean thought this was a pay off, like they had made a deal the night before, or even that morning. Was it because Castiel had stopped bringing up Sam, or because he wasn’t resisting Dean’s persistent nature, or because Dean felt obliged? And what exactly had he done to suddenly earn the hunter’s trust enough to be allowed to top?

He knew better than to bring any of it up though, he wanted to savour the fact that Dean was letting him do this, even if the hunter was taking charge. They stopped being able to concentrate on kissing, both of them absorbed in their connection, and Castiel let go of Dean’s glorious backside in order to work the hunter’s penis himself, forcing his concentration onto what he was doing with his hands, trying to keep his rhythm up, even as he collapsed into his boyfriend, completely spent. Dean came a few moments later, and seemed content to let the ex-angel hold him, their bodies still connected.

Castiel loved the few moments after they finished intercourse, when they were still in each other, absorbing each other. It felt very different, to be the one inside Dean as they leaned against each other in the hot tub. It was maybe inevitable that the hunter would be the one to break the silence.

‘Cleaning this thing out is going to be a pain in the ass. I creamed in the water.’

‘Dean, sometimes I struggle to know what you mean with your colloquialisms.’ Castiel sighed. Though he didn’t quiet understand the wording, he did have an idea of what Dean was referring to.

‘My man juice?’

Dean was clearly still in a playful mood. Castiel decided to just go with the flow.

‘Your semen?’

‘Well, if you want to get all technical about it.’

Dean smiled, and kissed him gently, before easing himself off of Castiel and slipping out of the water. Castiel watched him leave.

‘So that’s it? No more hot tub?’ He felt confused by Dean’s sudden aversion to the water. He supposed that Dean’s “cream” comment was connected to it somehow.

‘Not for now.’

Castiel watched as Dean bent down and scooped up the discarded towel and underwear, wrapping the towel around himself and padding away from the tub. After a couple of steps, Castiel began to realise that he wasn’t coming back, or stopping just short enough to allow Castiel out. He was heading back into the cabin holding the only thing that would save Castiel’s modesty. It didn’t matter that they were isolated, he would feel much better wearing his underpants. Dean was pulling back the glass door, and he called out plaintively.

‘Dean! Give me my underwear back!’

Dean turned his head, and fully pulled open the door. He smiled mischievously.

‘Come get it.’

Castiel frowned in consternation. He didn’t want to go without his boxers, and he didn’t want to stay in the tub if Dean was no longer there. And he really didn’t want to be running around outside in just his vessel. But Dean was just standing by the door, smirking smugly, and Castiel knew that it wasn’t even an option for him to come back and hand Castiel his clothes.

He acted, scrambling up the bench of the tub, and slipping over the top, feeling a sharp ache in the pads of his feet as he hit the main deck. And then he ran as quickly as he could, trying to get inside the house as quickly as he could. Dean slipped through the door when Castiel was only a few steps away, heading through the sitting area. Castiel caught up with him, and launched himself at his boyfriend, landing on him heavily, and sending them both crashing into the sofa, panting heavily, Dean barely concealing his laughter. Castiel fought to wrestle his underwear from Dean’s grip, but the hunter kept twisting, passing the small pile of cotton from one hand to the other, twisting around underneath Castiel as the angel straddled him, trying to grab the boxers. Dean was still laughing breathlessly, and he pressed the pants below a sofa cushion. Castiel gave up on them, knowing that Dean was intend on not giving them back. And besides, he reasoned with himself, they were dirty, the underwear he’d had on the day before. He moved over to the bag that Dean had packed for them, squatting down and rifling through until he found some underpants and a shirt for both of them.

‘Cas?’ Dean was still breathless, but no longer laughing.

‘Keep them. I have more.’ Castiel shrugged on the clothes he’d pulled out for himself.

‘Don’t get dressed. No one’s going to see you but me.’

Castiel knew that was true, and yet he knew he’d feel better with something covering his modesty. He turned back to his lover, and passed Dean’s pants and shirt.

‘We’re not animals. Humans wear clothes. So put them on.’

Dean obediently put on the clothes that Castiel handed to him, grumbling under his breath. And although Castiel no longer had his angelic powers, he still heard Dean muttering.

‘You are the worst at romantic weeks away.’

Castiel launched himself back onto Dean, and the couch, trying to wrestle with Dean once more. This time, it was to punish him, rather than to win back his own underpants.

‘What was that?’ He breathed as he managed to grab hold of Dean’s wrists and pin them on the sofa arm, above his head. They paused for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes and panting heavily from the exertion.

‘I brought the handcuffs,’ Dean admitted. Castiel raised his eyebrows. He had seen some of their supplies in the bag, this wasn’t news to him. He forced himself to stick to the agenda.

’That’s not what you said.’ He bent closer, dropping his voice, breathing in that wonderful Dean scent as he did, enjoying the tingling sensation that came from their near-contact. ‘I believe you said I was the worst at romantic weeks away? Purely because I want to wear clothes?’

‘They look so much better off.’ Dean flirted shamelessly. Castiel bent forward very slightly, still soaking up that tingling sensation that came from not quite having contact. Dean reached forward for a kiss, and he pulled away slightly, wanting to just enjoy the anticipation. He tried to make that point to Dean.

‘I thought humans liked the suspense that came with unwrapping their presents?’

‘We’re also very into instant gratification.’ Dean quipped immediately, searching again for a kiss.

‘Don’t I know that, with you,’ he mused, shaking his head and remaining out of reach from Dean’s searching lips. ‘Hey, Dean?’

‘Mmmmmm?’

There was that noise again. Castiel knew he could finally bring it up and not feel like he was hurting Dean’s feelings by mentioning it.

‘Okay, I did have one question, now I have two.’

He began tracing a finger over the small portion of Dean’s anti-possession tattoo that was visible over his t-shirt collar, his other hand still restraining his boyfriend by the wrists. This was the intimacy he’d been craving, the relationship he’d been wanting with Dean. And he had at least a week of this kind of bliss. He couldn’t help but smile.

‘Shoot.’

The words fell out of Castiel’s mouth easily, all reservations about Dean’s reactions gone.

‘Why did you let me top in the hot tub? I mean, I’m very grateful that you did, but I know it reminds you of some unsavoury memories. You are okay, aren’t you?’  
Dean nodded wriggling slightly under Castiel’s weight.

‘It wasn’t so bad, you know. I guess because it was you, and it wasn’t in a bed.’

Castiel was flattered that he could be the reason Dean had managed to put the past behind him. That was somehow even better than being told the hunter loved him.

‘But it probably won’t be a regular thing?’ He asked, expecting the answer, but wanting to show that he did understand the man he loved. Dean shrugged, his good humour never leaving him.

‘Let’s just see how it goes.’

Castiel finally released Dean’s hands, and curled up on his chest instead, slipping his hands underneath Dean’s ribcage as Dean settled his arms around his waist, fingers laced together. Castiel felt spoiled by the attention. He understood this time, what Dean was trying to convey. That he wasn’t going to rule anything out, or make promises that he couldn’t keep. Because when Dean made a promise he stuck by it. Castiel knew that now, knew that Dean wasn’t giving a firm answer only because he couldn’t guarantee his answer would be the same the next day. He reiterated his point, just in case they had the same misunderstanding that had led to so much confusion and heartbreak.

‘And by that, Cas, I mean, it might not happen tomorrow. It might be okay for the whole week. We might swap about. I just don’t know.’

‘I understand, Dean,’ he promised. ‘This time around.’

He burrowed his head further into Dean’s chest, and felt his boyfriend’s chin resting on his forehead. He looked at the opposite sofa, staring at the metal legs under the fabric of the seat, indulging in Dean’s quiet affection.

‘Was that both your questions?’ Dean’s voice was quieter this time, as though he was absorbing the atmosphere between them.

‘No. What does that noise mean?’

He’d finally asked. He felt so proud of himself, of what this meant for the both of them.

‘What noise?’ Dean, on the other hand, sounded perplexed. Castiel kissed his collarbone affectionately, knowing that he hadn’t explained himself well.

’That noise you make. That ‘mmmmm’ sound. I assume it’s a positive noise, but I have no idea what you mean by it.’

‘I don’t know.’ Dean sounded perplexed, as though he had no idea he had the trait. ’Tell me when I’m doing it and I’ll try and explain it.’

Castiel was grateful that he had a recent example to hand in order to explain himself. It was after all, the entire reason he brought it up.

‘Well, okay. I said your name because I wanted to ask about you letting me top and you did it then.’

‘Maybe I just love the way you say my name.’

Dean’s tone was teasing. Castiel sighed in frustration, knowing it wasn’t a real answer.

‘You’re a terrible flirt, Dean.’

‘I’m an awesome flirt.’ Dean inevitably flirted back.

‘As long as it’s just me you’re flirting with.’ Castiel tried to match him. Dean didn’t comment on his obvious jealousy. Instead he flexed his biceps around Castiel, and unclasped his hands, raising one to toy with Castiel’s hair.

‘So, we’re good, right?’ Dean changed the subject.

‘We’re very good,’ Castiel smiled happily, closing his eyes as he embraced the feeling of Dean’s fingers kneading his scalp. ‘How are you dealing with Sam moving out?’  
It didn’t feel wrong to ask this time. There was no tension after the words fell out of Castiel’s mouth, and he knew that Dean would just accept that he cared.

‘It sucks,’ Dean responded softly. ‘But I get it. We’ll have more time to be like this, whenever we want. And its not like he’s decided not to be my partner. We’ll still be working together.’

‘And working with me.’ Castiel decided, burrowing further into Dean’s chest.

’Not happening.’

Castiel could finally sense the tension. How was it, he mused, that Dean was seemingly fine about discussing Sam leaving him, but talking about Castiel coming along to hunt had set him on edge?

‘Dean-‘

‘Cas, I just spent three weeks worrying about you, watching you and not knowing if you were ever gonna wake up. I just talked some angels out of killing you. If you think I’m ever going to do anything except keep you safe from now on …’ Dean squirmed, unable to finish the thought, and Castiel waited, listening hard. Not just to the words, he was trying to practice Sam’s advice, and listen to what Dean was really saying. As far as he could deduce from the context, Dean was saying that should he come on the hunt, there would be a constant concern for Castiel’s newly fragile human status. And Dean was done with worrying about him for the time being.

‘It’s not happening. And I like the idea of coming home to you. Of having someone to come home to.’

More than that, Dean was laying out how much he was in love with the ex-angel. And though it was everything Castiel was hoping for, he still didn’t like the idea that he would have to constantly worry about the hunter if he wasn’t allowed to come along on the hunt also.

‘I like that too, Dean. But I’m not going to sit in the bunker, unable to see daylight, worrying about whether or not you’re safe.’

‘Okay, compromise,’ Dean started to speak quickly. ‘You can come along. Stay in the hotel room, help us with research. Be our phone guy - Sam’ll call you so we stay professional - and then at least we’re not half a country away from each other.’

Castiel reflected on the new offer. It was still so far from what he wanted, and they would have to negotiate sleeping terms because there was little chance that Sam would be okay sharing a room with them while they shared a bed. But he knew it was better than nothing, and a huge effort for Dean to begin to compromise.

‘That sounds fair. Can we compromise further and agree not to discuss hunting for the rest of the week?’

‘Sounds good. So long as we get a lot more of this.’

Castiel laughed, feeling the tension lift once more. To know Dean enjoyed their private discussions, and wasn’t afraid of what it could possibly mean; to have Dean admit it was what he wanted also? It gave Castiel a heady feeling, and he could feel more words slipping out. The difference now was that he was no longer worried about Dean’s reaction. And something told him that it was a good sign; that he wasn’t supposed to worry about Dean’s reaction, not if they were meant to be together.

‘You know, this is all I ever wanted with you. This intimacy, this understanding.’

‘I know. I’m glad you asked for it. Eventually.’

Castiel paused for a moment. Had Dean been anticipating Castiel asking him for a relationship? How had he managed to catch the hunter unawares when he finally brought it up then? Regardless, knowing that Dean had expected it, had waited for Castiel to ask … maybe Dean had loved him for longer than either of them had ever realised. He raised his head, and smiled as he looked into Dean’s eyes.

‘I’m glad too, Dean.’

It was inevitable that they would kiss the moment they made eye contact. Castiel savoured it, as much as he savoured any of Dean’s kisses, knowing that they had reached the point he had always wanted to get to. The buzzing feeling in his chest, the smile that lasted through the kiss, the secure feeling of Dean’s arms - it was all there to stay. Castiel was content, and best of all, he knew that Dean was too.


	29. Chapter 29

*One year later*

 

Castiel stood on a wide balcony, overlooking the street seven floors below. He leaned against the railings, surveying the town, feeling the breeze lift his hair and the bottom of his suit jacket.

He was thinking, about the time he and Dean had spent together. How they had returned from their trip to Wisconsin to find Sam’s room empty, a confirmation that he was true to his word and living with Becky. Dean hadn’t spoken about it, and Castiel had made the effort to contact Sam, to make sure there wasn’t a rift forming between the brothers. Sam had gotten down to business instantly, telling Castiel about a case that had come up, asking them to meet him there.

That had been the start of their new regime. The brothers would work cases together, all three of them sharing a room with the understanding that Dean and Castiel absolutely would not sleep together while on the case. Castiel would do research and respond to phone calls while the brothers interviewed locals and did the grunt work. And then Sam would return to Becky, and Dean would drive Castiel back to the bunker, where yes they would finally have sex, but they would also do other things. Castiel was slowly learning to cook by himself, to the point that Dean had started to complain that he was becoming fat with all the cookies and pies that Castiel made for practice. Though he never, ever turned it down. They did other things too, things that Castiel would never have dreamed of, like sitting around in sweat pants sharing take out or Ramen noodles, and watching movies. Dean would always have a few beers, and Castiel had found he enjoyed spritzers and mixing vodka with soda, so he would drink those, as Dean tangled their legs together. Castiel had been well educated on a host of movies from Dean’s childhood, like the entire Back To The Future and Star Wars series. They would talk long into the evening about all manner of issues, and topics. Some were light, and full of laughter, and some were more serious, deeper conversations that Castiel knew would only exist between them.

Castiel wouldn’t change a thing about it. Their relationship might not have been the perfect model it had been in his siren-induced fantasy, but there was a lot of love and affection, and Castiel felt as though he just knew Dean, and could correctly predict everything his boyfriend could potentially think or feel at any given time. Dean had made the effort with him also, to explain himself more fully whenever he could, to give Castiel more license in their physical relationship. Castiel felt very fortunate.

The glass door behind him opened, and he turned to acknowledge the person opening the door. Charlie stepped out onto the balcony in a light pink dress, which matched the waistcoat, handkerchief and corsage that Castiel was wearing.

‘Wow, Charlie,’ he smiled. She grinned back.

‘Yuh-huh, I know. I’m working it. And wait until Dean sees you in that tux.’

She winked, and Castiel looked away bashfully, as the image of Dean in an identical suit swam into his mind. He could imagine what Charlie was intending, because he was sure his reaction was the same.

‘Anyway, you wanna come back in?’

Charlie gestured to the room behind her, and Castiel nodded, following her back into the hotel room. It was crowded, and Castiel felt out of place instantly. There were another two girls that Castiel had only met a handful of times before; dressed identically to Charlie, perched on a chaise lounge and holding champagne flutes that were half-full as they talked behind their hands, giggling. There was a woman that Castiel had been introduced to briefly as the make up artist, and the hairdresser that Castiel was sure was about to look disapprovingly at what the wind had done to his hair, after she had spent so long artfully arranging each lock. Another person was wielding a large camera, and taking photos of everything they could possibly think of. There was also Becky’s parents, who were perched on the bed, looking bewildered and clutching glasses of their own. Charlie grabbed two more glasses from a side table, and thrust one into Castiel’s hand.

‘Dutch courage, dude.’

Castiel had long since given up trying to comprehend what Charlie meant most of the time when she spoke. Dean seemed to understand it, and if it ever really bothered Castiel, he knew he could always ask Dean for an explanation in private. He’d learned to try and understand her actions rather than her words. In that way, she was an awful lot like Dean. He took the glass offered, and swallowed a polite sip.

‘Are you ready?’ Charlie grinned, and Castiel nodded, although he wasn’t too sure what Charlie could possibly mean. The photographer swept in front of them, and took a picture, before crossing to the en suite, where they knocked on the door.

‘Ms Rosen?’

There was a squeak from inside the bathroom, before Becky finally, slowly emerged, wearing a sleek white dress. She looked both ecstatic and nauseated.

‘Rebecca,’ Her mother stood up from the bed, and crossed the room to her. ‘I can’t believe … my little girl … you look …’ she burst into tears, and Becky bit her lip, as Charlie took charge, grabbing bouquets of flowers, distributing them to the other girls, and then putting a hand on both Becky and her mother’s shoulders.

‘I agree, Mrs Rosen, Becky looks gorgeous. Sam’s not going to know what hit him. But please don’t get her crying before she gets to the aisle.’ She looked Becky in the face. ‘Becky, it’ll be okay. It’s going to be fine. It’s Sam. All you’re doing is walking into a room with Cas, walking right up to Sam, and telling him you love him. That’s pretty much it, okay? And then we go and have a few pictures, go eat some dinner, and then we party. Nothing to it.’

Castiel marvelled over how simply Charlie had phrased everything, and how relieved Becky already looked. He watched as Charlie pressed yet another glass in Becky’s hand and encouraged her to drink, citing dutch courage again. And then there was another flurry of activity in the room, as yet another person pressed their way inside and started issuing commands, ushering Becky’s parents out with the make up artist and hair stylist. She spoke quickly to Charlie and the other two girls who had matching dresses, and left with them, the photographer following closely behind. And then Castiel and Becky were left alone in the room together.

‘You’re breathtaking, Becky,’ Castiel assured her. She smiled weakly.

‘Thank you, Castiel.’ She placed a hand on her chest, and took a deep breath. ‘I didn’t get this scared last time.’

Castiel nodded slowly, trying to recall everything Dean had mentioned about Sam and Becky’s previous wedding.

‘It’s very different this time. Your family are here, you planned it together. I suppose it feels more real.’

She nodded, and waved her hands in front of her face, still breathing unevenly.

‘It will be fine, Becky. Like Charlie said, all we have to do is walk down to that room, walk into the room, and go to Sam. And then everything else will fit into place.’

‘Keep talking like that. Exactly like that.’ She smiled weakly.

‘Okay. All you have to do right now is hold my arm. Can you do that?’

She nodded, and slid her arm into his like they had practiced. He squeezed her hand gently, and tried to think how else he could phrase what they had to do in order to get Becky to Sam.

‘And now we just have to leave the room. Just walk out of the room, and to the elevator. Okay?’

Becky nodded quickly, and let Castiel lead her across the room, and out into the hallway. He wondered if he would ever react to Dean in the same way, that nervous energy that led to terror, and then he realised that he had spent a lot of the early days of their relationship in a similar state.

‘Cas?’

‘We’re just taking the elevator. That’s all.’ Castiel was aware of the photographer nearby, taking pictures of their progress. He did his best to fight her nerves. ‘Just a quick elevator ride, okay?’

Becky nodded, and let him walk her into the elevator, where he pressed the button, and squeezed her hand again.

‘I’m right here,’ he whispered.

‘Thanks, Cas.’ She whispered back. They arrived on the first floor, and Castiel began talking again, breaking down their walk to the wedding.

‘We’re just walking down this hallway, over to that door up there. That’s not very far.’

‘It’s not.’ Becky sounded frightened.

‘And look, Charlie’s there, and your other friends-‘

‘Tanya and Ruthie.’

‘Yes. See, it’s just your friends, standing by the door we’re walking towards.’

Becky’s nails were beginning to bite into his hand, but Castiel said nothing about the pain she was causing. He knew it wouldn’t be wise. The bridesmaids began filtering through, into the room, and the wedding planner ushered them forward.

‘We’re just walking into this room. Sam’s in here. It’ll be fine.’

Becky nodded as though she was no longer listening. When Castiel stepped forward, her moves were robotic beside him. He concentrated on keeping his pacing, holding her as firmly as she clung to him, although she was almost piercing his skin with her nails now. He looked forward, focusing on Sam, on where they were meant to be going. Yes, he was aware of Dean standing beside him, watching their progress along the aisle, but Castiel couldn’t afford to look at his boyfriend. Not because Becky was in need of him at that point, but because he had promised Dean. Dean who still had trouble with some aspects of their relationship, like talking to people about its very existence. He had been assured that people would find out at some point during Sam and Becky’s wedding, but Castiel very much doubted it would be the case. And while that was okay, it did not make it easy to see his boyfriend standing right in front of him, completely untouchable. He made sure to focus on Becky, instead of Dean’s reticence.

‘We’re almost at Sam now, I’m going to leave you with him. Just repeat the words, and look at him.’

’Thanks, Castiel,’ she breathed, and let him lift her hand, placing it in Sam’s. He bent and gave Becky a small kiss on the cheek, and nodded at Sam, accidentally catching Dean’s eye in the process. Dean looked frustrated, and Castiel could only guess why. He assumed it was a mix of his own limitations, and Sam’s anxiety over the impending nuptials. The look was brief, before Dean looked to his brother, and Castiel stepped away, next to the line of girls in pink dresses.

He followed the ceremony closely, watching Sam and Becky as they stammered their way through the vows. Becky clung to Sam’s hand throughout, and Sam kept giving her reassuring looks, both of them missing the attempts of the minister to make jokes and settle their nerves. Or perhaps they had noticed, but were both ignoring the attempts due to their own anxiousness.

Halfway through, Castiel could feel the prickling sensation of someone looking at him, and turned his head to see Dean, his eyes burning with an intensity. Castiel knew that Dean was trying to communicate something, and he listened intently to the words the vicar was saying, the vows that Sam and Becky had agreed upon, his eyes still locked on his boyfriend’s. It was almost as though Dean was promising that all the vows existed for them also, regardless of the fact that would never be getting married themselves. And Castiel was trying to say back that it was true for him also, that Dean was his world.

Castiel heard the minister give the cue for Becky and Sam to kiss, and he wrenched his gaze from Dean in order to watch Sam stoop down, and bump his mouth against Becky’s, as the guests in the pews began to cheer. Sam wrapped Becky in his arms, and kissed her forehead, before they began walking away, past all the guests. Charlie threaded her arm through Castiel’s, and he forced himself to focus, to walk with her as they followed Sam and Becky. She pressed her head close to his.

‘Was Dean staring at you the entire time?’

‘Most of it. Was it really obvious?’

‘It was to me, but then, I know you’re together. Maybe everyone else just thought he was checking out one of Becky’s friends or something.’

Castiel nodded slowly. He knew that was a possible outcome of the day, that people would misinterpret Dean’s behaviour and then have no inhibitions about sharing their observations with Castiel. And he would swallow down the unintended hurt that came from the assumption, knowing that Dean would make it up to him when they could finally be together.

They walked into the next room along, which had been set up for official photographs, while the other guests went into the room opposite where the bar had been set up. The other bridesmaids immediately descended on Charlie and Castiel, full of the kind of overexcitement that Castiel found endearing in Becky, but slightly irritating in these two.

‘Oh my goodness, the best man,’ one of them grinned, pretending to fan herself. The other giggled behind her hands, as Charlie rolled her eyes.

‘I know! Why did Becky leave the attractive brother alone?’

’They’re brothers?!’

Castiel hated the way the girls were discussing his boyfriend, but knew he couldn’t say a word. What was there to say? Charlie took charge, once again, and Castiel was grateful for it.

‘Yes, they’re brothers. And Becky loves Sam, so I guess to her, he’s the most attractive brother.’

The other girls weren’t deterred by Charlie’s obstinance.

‘I’m calling dibs. He’s mine. I think I’m next to him at dinner as well,’ the girl talking - Castiel couldn’t keep their names straight - looked smug as she made the announcement. The other girl looked annoyed.

‘So? I’m going to work on him and-‘

‘He’s with someone,’ Charlie sounded irritated. She folded her arms and scowled at the other bridesmaids, as the photographer began taking pictures of Becky and Sam. ‘He wouldn’t even look at the two of you.’

‘And you would know how?’ One of them snorted.

‘He’s my best friend. And trust me, he’s never going to go there.’

‘The other best friend,’ Castiel muttered before he could help himself. He knew that Charlie was being supportive, and that perhaps it wasn’t wise at that moment in time, but he hoped that Charlie understood the joke. It had been a few months before, when they had seen Charlie. Somehow the conversation had turned to Dean’s best friend, as it stood right then.

_‘I’m the best friend, you know,’ Charlie had grinned, punching Castiel playfully on the arm. Dean hadn’t even looked up from his coffee._

_‘Nope. Cas is my best friend.’_

_‘Cas is your boyfriend.’ Charlie pointed out. Dean shrugged._

_‘Boy can be both.’_

_Castiel had preened, as Charlie built herself up to argue with Dean. He looked up from his mug before she could snark at him._

_‘You’re my other best friend, Char.’_

_‘Don’t strain yourself, Winchester.’_

_‘Come on, you’re like my sister. And Cas is … Cas.’_

_Charlie had surveyed Castiel warily then, and Castiel had done his best not to gloat._

_‘You’re my other best friend too.’_

_She sighed, and raised her hands in defeat._

_‘Fine, I get it, you have couple vision.’ She rubbed her hands on her thighs, and then looked at Castiel, like a second thought. ‘You’re the other one, too.’_

Luckily, it seemed that Charlie understood how Castiel was thinking.

‘You’re the other best friend,’ she snarked back, grinning widely. It was as though she was glad that Castiel was taking away the serious edge of the conversation. Or else she was relieved that Castiel wasn’t going to be insulted by these two women and their designs on his boyfriend. The girls were called forward for a photograph, and Charlie punched Castiel’s arm as she passed. He risked a glance over to Dean, who looked bored and frustrated once again. He knew that his boyfriend was probably disliking the photograph section, and the waiting around until he could go to the bar, but equally, Castiel wondered if one of the bridesmaids had already said something to the hunter to make his mood sour. He knew he wouldn’t find out, not during the wedding, at least.

He was called forward before he could dwell any more on Dean’s demeanour, and he worked to smile happily for the camera, for Becky and Sam.

*

When the photo session had finally ended, they were allowed into the room with the bar for the rest of the cocktail hour. Dean had walked from the room as soon as they were dismissed, and Castiel found himself caught up with the bridesmaids once again, who were now plotting the best way they could get Dean alone. He found himself most annoyed by the fact that they hadn’t even bothered to learn Dean’s name, and kept referring to his as the Best Man. There was something in the lecherous way they said it that made Castiel believe they were inferring something sexual. He already questioned Dean’s temptation to women, as he kept finding copies of Busty Asian Beauties scattered around the bunker. He knew he wasn’t supposed to know about them, and he always left them in the odd places he found them in, but it did shake his confidence somewhat whenever he came across one. And though Dean was adamant that he was content in their relationship, it did concern Castiel that in this situation, when only a handful of people knew the truth, Dean might be led astray by women who seemed intent on relations with him.

It was with some relief that, once they were in the room with the bar, Castiel was flagged down by Kevin, who was sitting at a table with another man and looking well rested, for once.

‘Hey Cas! I didn’t know you knew Sam’s new wife.’

Castiel parted from the two bridesmaids, and joined the prophet and his friend at their table, accepting a glass of champagne that one of the bar staff offered. He explained quickly to Kevin how he knew Becky, before Kevin’s friend cut into the conversation.

‘So like, you’re Castiel? The angel Dean talks about all the time? The one that saved him from Hell?’

His eyes were sparkling, and Castiel wondered if he was about to fall into a trap. He forced out the same line that he and Charlie had fed the bridesmaids.

‘Yes, Dean’s my best friend.’

‘He’s a cool guy,’ the friend nodded. ‘When he doesn’t have a stick up his ass. I’m Garth, by the way.’

‘Dean feels that he has a lot of responsibility. You must be aware of that.’

Garth nodded again, and Castiel was quick to steer the topic away from Dean. He looked at Kevin.

‘How are you doing with translating the tablet?’

‘It’s slow and I hate it, but I’m slowly getting there.’ Kevin drank from his own glass, which he had managed to grab despite being underage. ‘Hey, did I hear right that you don’t have a grace anymore?’

‘Where did you hear that?’

‘Please, Cas, I hear snatches of the angel’s conversations. I don’t know any details, I just heard that they’d removed it. Is it true?’

Castiel nodded.

‘Yes. I made a decision a year ago that they didn’t approve of. And I stand by my decision.’

Kevin nodded, and someone across the room tapped a glass with a knife, and then announced that dinner was ready. Kevin jumped up, and led their way into the room next door, where the tables were set for their meal as Garth wondered off. They approached the table plan that Castiel knew Becky had agonised over, and he was glad to see that he would be sandwiched between Becky’s mother and Charlie. He was less pleased to see that Dean had been placed next to one of the bridesmaids. He happily sat down, and was immediately accosted by Becky’s mother and every passing thought that she had during the ceremony. Castiel did his best to respond, and reassure her that Becky did look lovely, and radiant, and that Sam was a great guy, and all the other platitudes that she seemed intent on hearing.

Luckily, even Becky’s mother seemed unable to talk when the food arrived, and Charlie garnered his attention, whispering about the other guests. She was either pointing out the hunters that she knew, or else commenting on this cute hat, that gorgeous dress, and Castiel was grateful for her distraction, until it was time for speeches.  
Becky’s father was first, welcoming Sam into the family and thanking Castiel for stepping in his place, explaining to those present what Castiel already knew; that he was unable to walk with Becky and Castiel had happily agreed to help out. And then he talked about how beautiful Becky was, and how proud he was of her, and Castiel grinned at Charlie as though he was saying it himself. She smiled around the rim of her glass, before they both joined in the toast that Mr Rosen started. And then Sam stood up, looking flustered yet happy.

‘Hi-hello everyone. Um, thanks for coming. So, yeah,’ he cleared his throat, and Castiel could almost feel Sam’s discomfort. He wasn’t used to making speeches, particularly about his own emotions, and Castiel could relate to him well. ‘I’m um, I’m not good at speeches. Or talking about feelings. My brother and me, we don’t really do either. Never really have. Um, but even though that’s the case, my brother - and my dad, but mainly my brother - they accidentally taught me a lot about love. Sorry Dean.’

There was a pause for laughter, and Castiel was listening intently.

‘See, Dean always put me first. Even when Dad would go away for long stretches at a time, even when he left us with people like his friend Bobby. I always knew Dean was in charge, and Dean was watching out for me. He put a lot on hold for me, went without just to give me what I needed. And Dad worked hard to protect me, to keep me safe from all the things that scared him. We weren’t a typical family, but that’s okay, because I know that they did their best. And even now, without meaning to, my brother shows me everything I need to know about love. Because Dean cares about a lot of things, and he feels things pretty deeply, and when I see him with the person he loves, I know I should aim for something like them. The way they can understand each other without words, and the way they put each other first without thinking. The way that they can be in the same room and just gravitate to each other like they’re not real unless they’re together.’

Castiel had never thought Sam saw it that way. He would still walk into a room and roll his eyes if they happened to be even sitting next to each other on the bed. He had thought Sam was still a little reticent about Castiel’s intentions. Could it purely be that Sam was just exasperated by how in love they were?

’Then Becky came back into my life - we’d met a few times before - and somehow, it started to feel a little bit like what I had watched with my brother. I wanted to take care of her, and protect her, and put her first. And when we talked, it felt like we understood each other. Maybe we weren’t at the same place as my brother, but I could see the beginning of something similar. And now we’re married, I promise you, Becky, that I’m always going to look out for you, and put you first, and be by your side whenever I can. And if I can do all that without thinking about it, then I’ll be a pretty good husband, I hope.’

He smiled at Becky, and everyone else took it as a cue to toast them again. Sam sat back in his seat and kissed Becky with more confidence than he’d shown in the ceremony. Castiel watched them, grinning and still processing exactly what Sam had said not only about the state of his relationship, but about the way his boyfriend was.

It was Dean’s turn to stand, and give a speech, and Castiel focused his attention on the table setting in front of him, trying to hide his face so that the other guests could not see him mouthing along to the words he had heard several times in the past week alone. He knew the speech better than the hunter did, and he was afraid that this would indicate to everyone else just who Dean’s partner was. It wouldn’t have been fair to do, to reveal that part of Dean when he clearly wasn’t ready. It hadn’t passed Castiel by either, that Sam had chosen his words carefully, talking only about his brother’s feelings and not even indicating a gender. He wished there was some way he could express his gratitude to the younger Winchester, thanking him also for the kind words he had said in the speech. It wouldn’t be possible during the wedding, or afterwards when Sam and Becky went on honeymoon, but maybe when they returned he would think of something appropriate.

Charlie nudged Castiel halfway through Dean talking, and whispered as quietly as she could, trying to keep the conversation between the two of them.

‘He’s doing good,’ she whispered.

‘He cut some of it out,’ Castiel responded. ’Some joke about going back to a mystery spot that I don’t quite understand still.’

‘I don’t get it either. Maybe that’s why he cut it?’

‘I don’t know. He said it was some reference to them being married again.’

Charlie nudged him again, and sat up straight, as though they’d been caught not paying attention. Dean hadn’t noticed, but it seemed some of the other guests had. Castiel refocused on the garish pink flower arrangement once more, listening as Dean wrapped up his speech with something close to being sentimental about not having his brother there every day. Castiel smiled faintly as he remembered Dean’s panic about reading it out.

_‘It’s lame.’_

_‘It’s fine, Dean.’_

_‘It’s not. I sound totally whipped.’_

_‘Dean, your brother’s getting married. Sure you can make some jokes about him growing up and his need for healthy food, and even the first time he met Becky. But you probably need some nice stuff in there. You’re the Best Man, after all.’_

_‘Fine. But anyone tells me how much it sucks, I’m saying you wrote it. And I lost a bet.’_

Castiel had ignored Dean’s bluster, which was thankfully missing during his speech. When he finally took a seat, Becky’s cousin stood up and asked everyone to move back over into the other room, ready for Sam and Becky’s first dance. Castiel didn’t need to ask what he could possibly mean, Becky had spent a lot of time going over the basics of a wedding, and what she and Sam were hoping to have happen. He knew the first dance had a lot of meaning, and Becky had agonised over just the right song to play. Sam stood, holding his hand out for Becky, and they left the room together, in the middle of the huddle of people. Charlie held Castiel’s hand.

‘Hey goofball, wanna dance with me? When we’re allowed to interrupt the happy couple, anyway? I don’t think Dean would dance.’

Charlie had, in Castiel’s opinion, guessed correctly. Fourteen months into their relationship and Dean hadn’t even tried to pick a song that could be their song. Every now and again, Castiel would bring the topic up, but Dean would shrug it off, citing that it wasn’t important. And when Charlie and Becky had taken it upon themselves to teach Castiel a few dance moves in time for the wedding, they had enjoyed themselves until the brothers had walked into the room. Sam had watched for a moment, before heading for Becky and joining in, but Dean remained by the wall, laughing as Charlie pulled Castiel around.

Castiel bent closer to Charlie, trying to get more privacy.

‘Well, no one knows about us, so I don’t think Dean would try to dance with me, even if he was willing.’

‘I meant with me, you ass!’ Charlie grinned, and stood holding Castiel’s hand while they watched Sam and Becky dance to a slow song. Castiel scanned the other guests as discreetly as he could, and saw Dean at the bar once more, his back to Sam and Becky’s dance as he ordered his beer. It broke his heart to see him like that, but what could Castiel do? He could try to make Dean feel better, but then he wouldn’t want to leave him alone for the rest of the night, and he didn’t want to upset the hunter by forcing the issue. He forced himself to look away, at Charlie, and smiled as enthusiastically as he could at her. Dean was probably focused on the bar, and the beer, in order to stop himself looking at Castiel.

‘Come on, we can go now,’ Charlie whispered, and dragged Castiel onto the dance floor, resting her wrists either side of his neck as he held her waist tentatively. They swayed together to the music.

‘Is he okay?’ Castiel whispered.

‘Yeah, he’s just had a couple of shots of something, and now he’s got a beer. I thought he was telling people?’

Castiel forced himself to sound cheerful.

‘I know he wanted to, but it’s far too hard for him.’

‘But this is hard for you, huh?’

‘I think this is still hard for him as well. It’s up to him what happens, but I won’t be surprised if he doesn’t speak to me until we’re in our room tonight.’

Charlie looked like she wanted to yell on his behalf, and he pulled her closer, lowering his voice as much as he could over the music.

‘Please, Charlie. I’m thinking of Dean. He really wouldn’t appreciate it.’

Charlie nodded, and cuddled closer to Castiel, and they continued swaying together until the song ended. She then made a gesture that she was heading to the bar, and Castiel walked off of the dance floor, and over to Kevin and Garth, who had resumed their positions on the table they had vacated for the dinner. He grabbed the cocktail menu and cast an eye over it, trying to decide on a drink, as Garth started talking.

’So Castiel, you know Dean, right?’

‘We’re best friends,’ Castiel reminded him patiently, as he pored over the choices. He didn’t know why Dean insisted on beer when cocktails existed. They had lots more alcohol in, and tasted so much better.

‘So, who’s this chick? “The One?” Sam seems to know her.’

Castiel looked up into Garth’s rubbery face, trying to understand what Garth was truly asking.

’There are farmyard animals?’

‘Dean’s girlfriend. I think it’s that bridesmaid, she was all over him at dinner.’ Kevin stuck in. Castiel fought the urge to wince. He wished Kevin had never noticed the girl’s behaviour.

‘I’m sure if Dean wanted you to know, you would know.’

‘It’s not the bridesmaid? Who is it?’ Kevin looked excited, and Garth laughed.

‘How did you get that from what he said?’

‘You learn to speak Cas.’ Kevin assured him. ‘What was it Dean told you about her earlier?’

‘Dark hair, blue eyes, and tall. That’s all he gave me. And I think Sam’s lying, Dean’s been alone like, the whole time. Didn’t he say in his speech that they don’t leave each other alone?’

Kevin glanced over to the bar.

‘Well, he looks miserable, so maybe he needs her around. And there’s no one that matches that description.’

Castiel didn’t know what to say. Dean had given the basics, the very basics, of what he looked like, he hadn’t lied. But Kevin and Garth were going to overlook him completely while they were appraising the female guests.

‘Maybe she wasn’t invited.’ Garth sighed.

‘Dean said she was here,’ Kevin pointed out. ‘Cas, is she here?’

Castiel cast his gaze around the room as though he was looking for someone. He saw Sam at the bar with Dean, and Becky dancing with her friends. He looked back at Kevin and nodded slowly.

‘Yes, Dean’s partner is here.’

‘Okay, the fact you know, and you won’t tell us, is just plain rude!’ Garth complained. ‘I want to know who could possibly make Dean mellow.’

Castiel forced himself to give an answer that Dean would appreciate.

‘I don’t want to destroy Dean’s trust in me by revealing information that he’s asked to share himself. If he hasn’t told you yet, then maybe you’re asking the wrong questions, or putting too much pressure on him. He doesn’t react well to pressure, if you hadn’t noticed.’

He glared at Garth, who looked behind him and smirked.

‘Hey Dean. Cas was just telling us all about your girlfriend.’

Castiel looked around again slowly. Dean was standing there, holding a near-empty glass, looking between them all with no real expression on his face. He was so close, Castiel could easily reach over and curl his arm around Dean’s waist. He could look up, knowing Dean would bend down and kiss him. But it wasn’t possible, Castiel had made the promise to let Dean set the pace.

Dean responded to Garth blandly.

‘Really?’

‘Yuh-huh. Pointed her out to us too, that blonde over there. She’s pretty, don’t know why you’re being so secretive about her.’ Garth had clearly gestured across the room. Dean didn’t move.

‘Cas? Can we talk a minute?’

Castiel blanched, worried about what Dean wanted to discuss. He had to know that Garth was lying in an attempt to get the truth out of him. Garth had said moments before how Dean had really described Castiel, and suddenly he was picking out a blonde woman … Dean led him into a corner nearby, just out of hearing distance. They finally made eye contact, and Castiel felt that familiar pull in his stomach. It was so hard not to just reach out and touch him, but somehow, Castiel managed. He felt he owed Dean an explanation for Garth’s behaviour.

‘Dean, I didn’t say a word-‘

‘I know, I know. Of course you didn’t, Garth thinks it’s some chick.’

Dean seemed more amiable than Castiel was expecting, and he relaxed a little. Not enough to throw himself at the hunter, but enough that he knew this discussion wasn’t going to end up as a row.

‘Then what did you want to talk about?’

‘Can’t I just talk to you?’

Castiel felt himself smile. Kevin may have been speaking earlier about “learning to talk Cas” but Castiel was well versed in the language of Dean. To anyone else, it may have sounded as though Dean was spoiling for a fight, but the ex-angel heard the words he really meant.

‘I’ve missed you too,’ he whispered, then realised those words alone could have been an error. If someone was listening in, what would they think? He cast a look over his shoulder, and saw Kevin watching them with a furrowed brow, as Garth chattered away to an older woman with a pixie cut hair. Castiel noted that she also had dark hair, and he hoped that Garth hadn’t assumed that she was Dean’s partner. He turned back to his entire reason for existence.

‘I’m sorry, Cas. Believe me, I want to just tell people. Jody worked it out and she said we should just be us, to hell with everyone else, but-‘

‘It’s okay. I’m not going to pressurise you, Dean.’ Castiel had no idea who Jody was, beyond someone Dean had mentioned a handful of times. But he seemed to value her opinion, and Castiel liked her advice. It made sense to him, given how Dean was, but he also understood why Dean would even find that difficult. He felt he had to assure his boyfriend that he wasn’t expecting anything during the wedding. ‘I’m looking forward to going home, making up for lost time.’

Dean only looked mildly relieved. He tapped the near-empty glass with two fingertips.

‘I want people to know.’

Castiel nodded, and did his best to remain compassionate but slightly distanced. It was so hard not to step forward, removing the distance between them, showing Dean how much he truly loved him. This was why they had avoided each other the entire wedding.

‘Take your time. And whatever you decide to do, I’ll do what I can to help.’

‘Thanks.’ Dean nodded, his shoulders slumping in relief.

‘It’s what I’m here for. Did you want another beer?’

Castiel gestured at the glass. Dean looked down at it for a moment, almost surprised that it was still in his hand, then back at Castiel, his expression guarded once more.

‘I’ll go get it.’

Castiel could accept that they couldn’t act romantic with each other, that he had to pretend Dean was in love with some female. But he wanted to do something for his boyfriend, some small gesture. He knew Dean would never concede unless he made it seem selfish in some way.

‘It’s fine, I’ll get it, I want to look at the cocktail menu again.’

He held his hand out for the glass expectantly, not allowing Dean the chance to refuse. The hunter automatically handed the glass over, but as his fingers grazed Castiel’s, he lurched forward, and fell on the ex-angel. Castiel’s eyes bulged open as their lips met, and something carnal exploded in both of them. Castiel couldn’t fight it any more, not when Dean was kissing them, even with all the things they had said. He felt the hunter grip the back of his neck, and he melted against the man he loved, unable to hold back. They moved together, the familiarity of each other’s lips and tongues dictating the ferocity of the kiss. It had been more than twenty-four hours since they had last kissed, but Castiel felt it had been much longer.

And then sense caught up to him, as he heard a voice, that sounded an awful lot like Kevin behind him.

‘Of course.’

‘What?’ Castiel heard Garth ask.

‘Dean’s chick? Not a chick.’

It was all Castiel needed to overhear. He forced himself to break away, and look at Dean, to assess what his boyfriend wanted to do. Dean looked more frustrated than ever, his focus on Castiel’s mouth.

‘I’m coming with you to the bar.’ Dean broke the silence. Castiel nodded, and Dean fell on him again. There was a chance that Dean hadn’t heard Kevin and Garth’s conversation behind them, if his attention was anything to go by. Or else he had heard and decided to just go with it, and let people know the way that Jody had suggested. Castiel was fully prepared to take his cues from Dean on how they went forward. When Dean indicated that he didn’t want to kiss any further, Castiel let him go, and followed him as Dean tugged him to the bar. He put the used glass on the table, and scooped the cocktail menu up as Dean pulled him closer, so that he leaned against the hunter. He tried to be casual about the situation.

‘Have you ever tried a Long Island Iced Tea?’

‘Nope. I need something stronger.’

Castiel returned the menu, and put his free hand on Dean’s shoulder, wishing there was some other way he could reassure him. He racked his brain for something that could be comforting.

‘It’ll be okay, Dean. Remember what Becky said? Anyone who has a problem with it, she’ll have removed.’

Dean squeezed the hand he still held, and Castiel knew he was at least acknowledging the effort, even if he didn’t quite believe that Becky would have the strength of character to evict someone from her wedding. The bartender interrupted them at that moment, and Castiel ordered their drinks, hopeful that if Dean had enough hard liquor inside him then he might begin to lighten up, to stop worrying so much. He looked across the room again as the bartender went to pour Dean’s whiskey and mix his iced tea, and saw Garth, Kevin, and the older lady watching them intently. Kevin looked confused still, but the woman was grinning widely, and Garth was smirking too. Castiel felt compelled to inform Dean.

‘Garth and Kevin are watching us.’

‘Figured they might.’ Dean grunted back.

‘You’re going to have to talk to them some time.’

Castiel tried to say it softly, to remind him that the conversation would come up, but he was worried that Dean would feel baited.

‘You know what I wanna do? I wanna drink this, and then I wanna dance with you.’

Castiel could hardly believe his ears. Dean, who wouldn’t dance with him and Charlie in the safety of the bunker, wanted to dance with him in a crowd of Becky’s friends and families, in front of other hunters? He gave a hesitant smile, unable to process that Dean would be genuine. Even if Dean was nothing but genuine with him.

‘You want to dance?’ He repeated.

‘Sure, why not?’

He sounded so casual, as if there was nothing to be surprised about. As though he danced all the time. Castiel had his suspicions that Dean was picking the lesser of two evils, and that by dancing with Castiel he could avoid anything obnoxious that Garth could potentially say, but the situation worked in his favour so he did nothing to point out his boyfriend’s behaviour. Instead he smiled widely, and kissed Dean in gratitude. Dean kissed him back readily enough, and he knew that he hadn’t overstepped the mark. They had a few happy moments of focusing only on each other, before someone close by cleared their throat, and Castiel peeled himself away. He expected a lecture from Sam, but it was the bartender, standing there with two drinks in front of him. Castiel hastily pulled some money from his pocket and handed it over, then picked up the taller glass, noting that his drink looked practically the same colour as Deans. He sucked on the straw, testing the flavour as Dean scooped up his drink, and someone pushed their way in between them. Charlie.

‘Hey guys. So, you’re finally out?’

She sounded happy as she spoke, and Castiel tried not to feel too disgruntled about her wedging her way between himself and Dean. He responded pleasantly enough.

‘Out?’

Dean groaned, and gulped down some of his whiskey. Charlie rolled her eyes and nodded back to Dean, as though she was silently reprimanding him, before entertaining Castiel.

‘Yeah. You know, people will be like “oh hey, that’s Dean’s boyfriend, he’s coming out of the closet.” So you’re out.’

‘What closet?’

‘It’s an expression.’

‘Like when you say, “hey bitches” as a greeting?’

‘Sure, we’ll go with that. Anyway, people are going to tell you you’re out now.’

Castiel was still unsure what it was that Charlie meant, but he smiled weakly, and then walked around her, needing to be close to Dean. He’d gone too long without the hunter, without their contact. He just needed to hold his boyfriend.

‘We’re just us.’

Charlie rolled her eyes at him this time, and Castiel cuddled closer to Dean as though to prove his point. He nuzzled by Dean’s ear and whispered.

‘Do you wanna go dance now?’

Dean didn’t even answer, but tipped his head back and drained his glass, slamming it onto the table as he stood up. Castiel understood the cue and drained his own glass before smiling at Charlie. She shook her head at him as though he was entirely predictable, then threw them a curve ball.

’See you guys later. I’m going to find my date.’

Castiel led Dean onto the dance floor before he could change his mind, remembering all the tips that the girls had given him. He caught Dean’s eye as he gave a little shimmer and saw the hunter fighting a smile as he tried to get into the rhythm. He knew then that everything was going to be fine. And if there was any problems, they had a hotel room to go back to. He leaned in close, trying to talk to Dean over the music.

‘I didn’t know Charlie had a date.’

‘Me either. But it’s Charlie, that girl could score anywhere.’

Castiel looked through the other bodies dancing, trying to spot Charlie and her date. Dean moved closer, holding Castiel the way the ex-angel had imagined holding him earlier, his arms tight around Castiel’s waist. Castiel smiled, and then noticed Charlie, embracing someone who looked an awful lot like Meg, although this woman had blonde hair.

‘I found her. I wasn’t expecting that.’

Dean turned to look, as Castiel realised that it was Meg. And that Dean was still terse about the subject. He felt the pull as Dean tried to step away, towards the two girls, and he did his best to cling on to his boyfriend, to make them remain on the dance floor.

‘Dean, leave it.’

Dean stopped pulling, but still glared in Meg’s direction. Castiel hoped that Dean would rationalise the situation as Meg was with Charlie, so she was clearly unwilling to continue attempting to disrupt their relationship.

‘You’re right. The room’s full of hunters, it just takes one to work out there’s a freaking demon around.’

It wasn’t the rationalisation that Castiel wanted, but he was grateful that Dean was agreeing not to hurt the demon that was his friend. He cupped the hunters chin and nudged him around so they could have eye contact.

‘Don’t go telling people. Sam and Becky would hate there being any issue.’

He knew that Sam and Becky would have hated any uproar about their own relationship, so he was confident that the same existed for Charlie and Meg. He found the idea of the two of them together as baffling as Dean did, but he didn’t want Dean distracted with thoughts of vengeance when they were finally able to be themselves. Thankfully, Dean seemed to pull himself together, to focus back on Castiel, and they began dancing together again. Dean visibly relaxed after a couple of songs played out, even smiling as Castiel wriggled his hips at him. They were left alone in their own small bubble of happiness, and Castiel was grateful for it, just for the way it allayed Dean’s fears.

As the song they were dancing to came to an end, Castiel noticed that there wasn’t another song starting up. He began to notice the noise of chatter around him, just as Charlie clambered up by the DJ and took the microphone, talking to the DJ as she smiled and nodded. Dean still held Castiel close as they watched her, waiting for whatever she had in store. Castiel wondered if Dean was in on it, and this was some surprise for Sam and Becky. He spotted them a few feet over, embracing also, Sam stooping down to listen as Becky talked in his ear.

‘Hey everyone, hi!’ Charlie caught Castiel’s attention again, as she spoke directly into the microphone. ‘Um, Sam and Becky and me, we’ve picked the next song. We wanted to dedicate it to the best man, so Dean, enjoy this one.’

Castiel wasn’t sure why they were dedicating a song to Dean. The music started, a slow, steady beat, and Castiel couldn’t understand the connection to Dean. It wasn’t loud and abrasive, fast and energetic like the music he enjoyed. Yet Dean started swaying with him, as the singer began the lyrics.

‘Why do you think they picked this song?’ He asked over the words. Dean leaned even closer, resting their foreheads against each other, holding Castiel firmly against him as they shuffled slowly together.

‘I don’t know. I don’t care.’

Castiel nodded, stopping quickly as he realised it might hurt Dean’s head. He tried to pay close attention to the words, to see what Dean’s brother, sister-in-law, and honorary sister might possibly be trying to say.

_’So when I’m lying in my bed, thoughts running through my head, and I feel that love is dead. I’m loving angels instead.’_

Castiel leaned away from his boyfriend, trying to process what he’d just heard, as the man crooned on. He blurted his thoughts out to Dean as he cocked his head, still listening hard.

‘Did he just sing about loving angels?’

_‘And down the waterfall wherever it may take me, I know that life won’t break me when I come to call. She won’t forsake me. I’m loving angels instead.’_

‘Yuh-huh.’ Dean agreed at the pinnacle moment.

‘Well, that’s inaccurate.’

Castiel was trying to play it cool, but inside, he was bubbling over. He wanted to say how much this song felt perfect for them, because Dean had given up on so much for his own life before they got together and it now felt like Dean was altogether much happier just because of their relationship.

‘People still call you my angel,’ Dean shrugged. ‘I guess that’s what they were going for.’

Castiel sighed, glad that Dean was feeling the same way, whether he expressed that or not. He carried on listening to the words of the song, cuddling close in to Dean, his head finding that comfortable spot between jaw and collarbone, their arms tight around each other. They carried on swaying as the singer told of being in pain, and looking to the heavens for reassurance that he would be okay, just from the love of his angel. It was the kindest thing that Charlie, Becky and Sam could have done for them. As the music continued and the singer took a pause, Dean began talking.

’So, weddings aren’t too bad.’

‘I’ve enjoyed myself. Sam and Becky are very happy together.’ Castiel answered back, stroking Dean’s arm tenderly.

‘Yeah. So are we.’

Castiel straightened up, looking into Dean’s eyes and smiling widely. He wanted to call the moment - their relationship, all of it - perfect, but he still worried about placing too much pressure on the hunter. Instead, he went with a compromise.

‘Of course we are.’

Dean gave a very brief, tight smile in response. Before Castiel could begin to understand his discomfort, he spoke again.

‘Maybe we should do this.’

Castiel’s smile was fixed in place, as he tried to understand what it was that Dean wanted to do. Dance together? Love angels? Dean shrugged, which only made his discomfort more obvious to Castiel.

‘I mean, maybe we should get married.’

Castiel had to work to keep his smile in place. Dean hadn’t … he’d misheard, hadn’t he? Or else, the hunter had drunk far more than he’d realised and this was the sounds of the rarely-spotted drunken Dean. Or it was a throwaway comment because of the song, and the dancing, and that no one had tried to burn them at the stake or whatever it was humans did to homosexual men these days. Dean reached into his pocket, and produced a small box, flipping the lid open and revealing a thick silver band.

‘Castiel? Will you marry me?’

He was dreaming. Or back in that coma where Dean had been his husband. Or this was some strange bet he had with Sam. And was Becky really going to be okay with Dean proposing, whether he meant it or not, at her wedding?

But oh, to marry Dean! It was frightening how much Castiel found he wanted it. To eradicate all the doubt that even one copy of Busty Asian Beauties could instil in him. To know that he and the hunter were truly bonded, in the eyes of every human they met. To be introduced as a husband, instead of a friend, for people to work out the truth later … he became aware of Dean’s intense stare, pulling him back to reality. And reality was- was- had Dean really proposed?

‘Pardon?’

Dean winced, but when he spoke his voice was steady, and the words were clear. If only Castiel could really work them out.

‘Will you marry me?’

It definitely sounded like a proposal. It felt very real. Castiel tore his eyes away from the hunter’s face, and glanced down at the dainty box that Dean was clutching so tightly, his fingertips were turning white. The ring secured in the lining was silver, and burnished slightly. There was no coffee order engraved on it, which made it seem even more real. He tried to cling on to some kind of reason.

‘It wasn’t an option-‘

‘It’s an option now.’ Dean cut him off tersely, but Castiel wasn’t offended. How could he be? Dean was proposing. Legitimately proposing. He looked up at his boyfriend’s face, just long enough to see the tense expression on it, before looking back at the ring. It seemed familiar, even if it wasn’t the ring from the siren-induced fantasy, but Castiel wasn’t sure where he’d seen it before.

‘Cas? You can say yes any time you like.’

Castiel couldn’t help but smile at Dean’s impatience, his focus still on the ring. He tried to come up with something to say, some hastily worded response that let Dean know just how much he meant, how flattering the proposal was, and how Castiel just wanted him, however that was possible. A simple yes seemed so inadequate. He couldn’t believe that Dean was proposing, after all the agony of avoiding each other so that people wouldn’t know they were a couple! This must have been why Dean was so adamant that people knew. The song must have been chosen just for this moment. Becky and Sam must have been consulted, to check it was okay. He finally looked back at Dean.

‘You want to marry me?’ He broke the silence between them. Dean looked as though he was about to have a heart attack from the suspense.

’Standing here with a ring, asking you. Yeah, I want to marry you.’

There was another beat as Castiel took in Dean’s strained expression, the hope and the fear of rebuff evident in his mossy green eyes. He licked his lips, a sure sign that he was more nervous than he could ever convey to Castiel.

‘I didn’t think you wanted to.’

Castiel still felt cautious. It still seemed too good to be true.

‘Sam and me, we’ve been talking about it lately. It makes sense.’

He’d been consulting Sam about potentially getting engaged? Sam had managed to keep that particularly quiet. As had Becky, Castiel was in no doubt that she knew exactly what the brothers had been planning. Castiel wanted to make sure Dean knew exactly what he was offering.

‘It’s a big commitment.’ He reminded the hunter. Dean didn’t miss a beat.

‘Maybe, but I said yes to you a long time ago now. It’ll be like having a party for a promise we made ages ago.’

Castiel nodded slowly, appreciating Dean’s logic. It was really happening, they were really getting engaged.

‘So? Are you going to answer ever?’

Castiel smiled warmly, savouring the moment as long as he could.

‘I said yes ages ago too.’

‘So … yes?’ Dean pressed, still not understanding that there was no doubt in Castiel’s mind what the answer would be. Castiel laughed, caressing Dean’s jawline and massaging his fingers into the bristles of hair near his neck. His future husband’s neck.

‘Yes, Dean. I’ll marry you.’

Dean pounced, kissing him ferociously as his pent up tension dissipated, and Castiel found himself laughing, pulling away to talk to his fiancé.

‘Are you going to put that ring on my finger?’

Dean kissed him once more, a lingering kiss that was gentler than the last. Then he removed the ring from the box, grabbed Castiel’s left hand, and slid the ring on. Castiel looked at the old silver ring on his finger, the part of Dean that already looked very much at home on his own body, and realised that whatever ring Dean had chosen was of sentimental value. He was afraid to ask who it had once belonged to, but he knew it was someone important. And Castiel felt important to Dean, wearing it. 

They looked at each other, and Dean was smiling as hard as Castiel imagined he himself was.

‘I can’t believe … did you really …’

Castiel spluttered, and Dean pulled him back for another kiss. Castiel could see the rest of the night turning out the same way, with Dean kissing him every time he needed to be reminded of their new reality. And of the girls demanding to see the ring, congratulating them. Sam and Dean merely nodding at each other, already knowing the other’s views on the impending union. He hoped Becky didn’t feel overshadowed by the proposal, although he knew that it was only a big deal to him and Dean, really. It had been done in their own little bubble, the other guests most likely weren’t aware that Castiel’s world had been turned upside down, or right way around. But he knew, and Dean knew, and that was all that truly mattered. Castiel and Dean, together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this fic! I'm still, very slowly, working out how AO3 works, so I really appreciate you sticking with me.
> 
> The song mentioned is called Angels, by Robbie Williams. It was big over in England anyway, but at Asylum 13, Theo dedicated it to Richard Speight Junior, and I wanted it in this story so badly. Rich's face when the entire crowd got to those lines and he realised what the whole song was about was priceless!


End file.
